


a step by step guide to falling in love; or, how to woo a guy in 1,854 days

by neverbirds



Category: The Book of Mormon - Ambiguous Fandom, The Book of Mormon - Parker/Stone/Lopez
Genre: Alternate Universe, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Humor, Multi, Romantic Comedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-28
Updated: 2017-09-28
Packaged: 2019-01-06 16:05:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 25,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12214194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neverbirds/pseuds/neverbirds
Summary: Step 1: Have an unhealthy obsession with romantic comediesStep 2: Ignore how cute your new best friend isStep 3: Be emotionally illiterateStep 4: Hope you get your happy ending, despite putting zero effort in on your partStep 5: Actually get the happy ending





	a step by step guide to falling in love; or, how to woo a guy in 1,854 days

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [一本坠入爱河的教学指南或者如何在1854天内追到他](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15960797) by [maya1206](https://archiveofourown.org/users/maya1206/pseuds/maya1206)



> This is a romantic comedy AU, mostly based off When Harry Met Sally but ran away from me into 25k of quips and awkward romance. 
> 
> Fun fact: my document for portrait was called 'sad mormons' and this one was called 'happy mormons', so that's pretty much where we're at. 
> 
> Thanks to Devilberry as always for being my number one fan and my editor to boot.
> 
> Love to you guys, as always, for being the most supportive fandom I've ever been in.

It’s a brutally hot summer’s day, and Kevin’s car doesn’t have air conditioning. 

This wouldn’t necessarily be a problem if he wasn’t travelling two thousand miles across the country with a stranger. A very attractive and unattainable stranger, if the way he has his tongue down Jason’s throat is to be believed. Kevin has heard a hell of a lot about Connor McKinley, and he doesn’t like the sound of any of it.

But still. Jason told Kevin that Connor needed a ride, so Kevin told Jason to tell Connor that he can only carpool if they switch off driving and split the cost of the inevitable dingy motels they’ll be staying at, so then Connor told Jason to tell Kevin that sounded like a plan and now here they are. Kevin is about to embark on his Great Adventure in New York City and he has to start it in a car for four days with somebody who Kevin already knows to be a giant pain in the ass. Kevin gets bored of watching his friend french some guy he’s only known for a couple of months as if they’re star crossed lovers seeing each other for the last time before one of them tragically dies, so he honks his horn. Three times.

The first words Connor says to him are “calm down, princess” followed by “don’t you let boys have any fun?” 

The first thing Kevin says to Connor is, “I’m already tired of sharing a car with you and it’s been less than a minute,” because he’s not in the mood for bantering with Connor when they’re already twenty minutes late, according to Kevin’s incredibly detailed plan of their journey. When he tells Connor this, Connor throws back his head and laughs at him. 

“You’re going to be an absolute laugh riot,” he says, and then blows kisses to Jason out of the window. 

“I’ll call you,” Jason says. 

“Not if I call you first,” says Connor. Kevin rolls his eyes and pretends to stick his fingers down his throat so only Jason can see. He pulls a face back at him. “I’ll call you at the gas station. And I’ll text you the whole time.” 

Kevin already doesn’t believe a word that comes out of his mouth. 

“I’ll be waiting,” says Jason. Kevin thinks that Jason will be waiting a very long time. Connor has a reputation. A reputation that involves a long line of broken hearts. 

Kevin gives Jason a wave and starts the engine without letting Connor have another five minutes of cooing over a boy Kevin _knows_ Connor is never going to think about again. 

“You’re awful,” he tells Connor. “You are never going to call him, are you?”

“Never say never,” Connor shrugs. “Also, nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” says Kevin, although he doesn’t mean it. 

There’s an uncomfortable silence for around two or three minutes, and Kevin spends that time keeping his eyes on the road, not looking at Connor and not noticing quite how attractive he is. Kevin feels a bit put out. He’s not used to not being the unquestionably best looking person in the room and he feels a little threatened. Kevin doesn’t have that much going for himself, other than being a tall glass of water. Connor opens his mouth again. 

“So what’s your story?” 

“What?”

“Your story,” says Connor, slower. “What takes you to New York.”

“Oh,” says Kevin, trying to concentrate on the road whilst keeping one eye on the clock because they’re already _twenty seven_ minutes late according to Kevin’s itinerary. “I just wanted a change. I want to be a social worker, so. Made sense to go to New York. Lots of people need help there.” 

“Right,” says Connor. “That all? Where’s your sense of adventure?” 

“Go on, then,” says Kevin, because living with his mother for eighteen years means he can smell somebody fishing from miles away. “What takes you to New York?” 

“Broadway, darling,” says Connor, dramatically, accompanied by jazz hands.

“That all?” Kevin parrots. 

“And I needed to get away from my family,” Connor shrugs, like it means nothing. 

“Yeah,” says Kevin. “Me too, I guess.” 

“Cool,” says Connor. “So, Mormon, huh?”

Kevin almost swerves off the road. 

“Excuse me?”

“You’re a Mormon, obviously.”

“What do you mean, obviously?”

“Well, you know. Utah, uptight, the fakest smile I’ve ever seen. Practice that at the missionary training center, huh?”

Kevin did practice his smile at the missionary training center, and it’s the only good thing he took away from that experience, other than discipline and keeping his hair perfect at all times. He knows how to smile in at least four different ways according to what he wants and who he’s smiling at. Screw Connor for calling him out on it. 

“You’re a jerk,” says Kevin. “Also, no.”

“Ah, definitely a Mormon. Bad liar.”

“Okay, so I’m _sort of_ a Mormon. And dropped out of my mission. So what.”

“Me too,” says Connor. “Sort of a Mormon. Good way of putting it, I suppose.” 

“You are not,” says Kevin, because - well, because. Connor is _loud_ and _lavish_ and very, very gay. He’s like all of the temptation of not being a Mormon wrapped up in a pretty bow. 

“For he that diligently seeketh shall find; and the mysteries of God shall be unfolded unto them, by the power of the Holy Ghost, as well in these times as in times of old as in times to come.” 

Kevin is quiet for a moment and lets the familiar words sink in. 

“About your family,” he says. 

“Let’s not,” says Connor. 

“Sure,” says Kevin, because unlike Connor, he doesn’t like to push things. “Man is, that he may have joy.”

If Kevin likes the way that Connor looks when his mouth quirks into a half smile, he will never, ever admit it. He probably didn’t learn that smile at the missionary training center. They don’t teach you how to persuade somebody by looking wickedly at them or flirting or any of the other tricks Connor seems to have up his sleeve. But they do teach you to be self-assured and authoritative, and well, maybe Connor did take away some stuff from the training center that Kevin didn’t. Not that Kevin is jealous or anything. Kevin would never be jealous of the likes of Connor. Kevin Price is perfect just the way he is, thank you very much. 

***

They stop at a diner. It was one of the parts of this surprisingly miserable road trip that Kevin was looking forward to. He’d planned out every diner on the way, looked up reviews and created a whole list, with the time allowed to stay there before they need to set off again written neatly next to each name. Kevin quickly learns that your dining experience depends on wholly on the quality of your company, not the food. 

“Have you ever had great sex?”

Kevin chokes on his cherry pie. 

“What kind of question is that?”

“I’ll take that as a no,” says Connor, waving his hand at nothing. “That sucks. Still, New York, New York. Lots of new experiences to be had, and all that.”

“You’re shameless,” says Kevin. Connor nods his head in acknowledgement. “How do you know I haven’t had great sex?”

“You are, I’m sorry to say - and please don’t shoot the messenger - the most uptight person I have ever met.” 

“Rude,” says Kevin, and flicks some cream off his spoon at him. “Fine. I had great sex with Laura Woods.” 

“No you didn’t.”

“Yes, I did.”

“No, you absolutely did not. Laura Woods is the definition of a pillow princess.”

Kevin doesn’t even know what a pillow princess is, but he’s offended anyway. Connor says it in a condescending manner that let’s Kevin know that Connor thinks he’s a loser. Kevin isn’t a loser. Kevin is a winner, and maybe that doesn’t extend to his sex life but so what? Kevin was a Mormon until a few years ago, just because Kevin hasn’t crammed in as much sexual rebellion as Connor into those few short years doesn’t mean he’s better than him or anything. 

“How do you, of all people, know that?”

“I have my ways,” says Connor, wiggling his eyebrows for the umpteenth time that day. “Who else?”

Kevin feels - and this is not a new feeling, not by a long shot - incredibly uncomfortable. He’s had it beaten into him from a very young age that sex is something for married people, not for people you don’t even know at college. That’s something that’s hard to unlearn. Apparently not for Connor. But, who is Kevin to judge? People deal with things in different ways. If Connor wants to let out years of repression by sleeping with whoever he feels like, Kevin certainly isn’t going to stop him. He wishes Connor would return the favor. Kevin’s private life is private for a reason. 

“I feel like I’m being interrogated about my past sexual exploits.”

“That’s because you are,” says Connor. “Spill. We have _days_ to fill.” 

Kevin just wanted to eat his pie in peace. 

“Harvey,” says Kevin. “Harvey Jones.” 

Connors face sort of does a _thing_ , like he’s suddenly very interested and very horrified all at once. 

“Mormon!” he says. “Bad Mormon.”

“Shut up,” says Kevin. “ _Sort of_ Mormon.” 

“Right,” says Connor, and he’s smiling. Like really, really smiling, not that horrible half smirk thing he’s been doing all day. “Harvey gives the worst blowjobs in the world. Trust me.”

Kevin hasn’t really had much to compare it to, when he thinks about it. He knows he’s blushing. He doesn’t think anything ever gets past Connor. 

“Fuck off,” he says, because he can’t think of anything else to say. 

“I could show you great sex, if you wanted,” says Connor, tearing up his napkin into little pieces and littering them all over the table. Kevin resists the urge to sweep the little bits up and put them in Connor’s coffee. His mouth falls open, full of mushed up pastry. 

“You are the worst person I’ve ever met in my entire life.” 

“So that’s a no, I take it?”

“Jesus Christ,” says Kevin. “Aren’t you dating Jason?”

“He’s this morning’s news,” says Connor, and grins wickedly. “Still, you can’t blame a girl for trying.” 

Kevin bashes his head on the table. He has three days left with this asshole. He doesn’t think he’ll make it out alive. New York looks less and less promising every day, if it’s full of Connor McKinleys. 

“So,” says Connor when they enter the warm evening air again. “One bed or two? You didn’t answer my question.” 

Kevin narrows his eyes. Connor is grinning at him again, tinged with a dark expression that makes Kevin squirm.

“Not in your wildest dreams,” says Kevin. Connor shrugs. 

“Suit yourself,” he says. He doesn’t even look vaguely disappointed, Kevin notices. It kind of pisses him off. Kevin is not the sort of person who can just outright ask somebody if they want to have sex with him. He’s slept with a grand total of four people in his twenty two years, and one of them he can’t even remember, through the ex-Mormon tries alcohol for the first time hazy college party blur. Kevin gets the impression that Connor has slept with more people this month than Kevin has in his entire life. If he finds himself feeling jealous, it’s because he’s annoyed that it comes so easily to Connor. If being the prerogative word, here. 

Kevin is glad, at least, that even though his evening is spent not getting laid, it’s spent being quiet. He reads his book with his glasses on, drinks two whole glasses of water, and gets an early night. 

***

“Your favorite romantic comedy,” Connor asks him the next day. It’s his turn to drive.

“I don’t know,” says Kevin. “There’s a lot.”

“Good answer,” says Connor. “That was a leading question, anyway.” 

“Leading to what?” 

“A lengthy discussion of Pretty in Pink. Obviously.”

Kevin wrinkles his nose. Moves are good. Movies he can talk about. Movies are a safe topic that have absolutely nothing to do with Kevin’s sex life, or lack thereof. 

“That is the worst prom dress in history. Not even my sister’s tangerine ruched thing was as bad.” 

“I cannot believe you,” says Connor. “I cannot believe you know the word ruched.” 

“I have three sisters,” Kevin deadpans back. “They watch a lot of daytime television about wedding dresses.” 

“You’re a man of mystery, Kevin Price. Anyway. Molly Ringwald, Andrew McCarthy and the quirky guy. Duckie. Discuss.” 

“Discuss what? She got with Andrew McCarthy, that’s the point of the movie. There’s no love triangle or anything.” 

“Now I _really_ cannot believe you.” 

“What?” Kevin says. Kevin has said that word more in the past two days than he has in the last year or so. Connor is absolutely baffling. He barely understands a word that comes out of that mouth. Connor just says whatever he feels like. It’s hard to believe he was ever a Mormon. He tries to imagine a teenage Connor, sitting in a pew every Sunday and reciting scripture. He can’t. It’s an impossible concept. Connor is impossible. 

“She is so clearly supposed to get with Duckie. It’s basically criminal that she didn’t.” 

“What’s not to like about Andrew McCarthy? Rich, going to be successful, handsome. He’s the obvious choice.”

“It’s boring.”

“It’s stable,” Kevin says. Kevin raises his eyes to the Heavens in an attempt to calm his temper. “Nothing wrong with stable.”

“You have _no_ sense of adventure. At all. I assume you think Meg Ryan should have stayed with her loser boyfriend instead of going up the Empire State Building to meet Tom Hanks, too, huh?”

“Sleepless in Seattle is dumb. Obviously she should have stayed with her fiancé instead of breaking up with him on the off chance that this random guy she’s never met might happen to have taken her up on her crazy lady letter and be at the top of the fucking Empire State Building. On Valentine’s Day.” 

“Such a romantic,” says Connor with a wistful sigh. He’s watching Kevin out of the corner of his eye and Kevin is looking right back. “It’s a movie. The possibilities are endless.” 

“It’s stupid,” Kevin says, in his best imitation of a person who is in control of the situation. “It’s misleading. Romantic movies only lead to broken hearts and stupid ideas about how love is magical or whatever. Unrealistic expectations and all that.”

“Oh my God,” says Connor. “I’m trapped in a car with the most boring man alive. I cannot believe I even considered sleeping with you.”

“Fuck off,” says Kevin. This is another thing he’s repeated a lot these past two days. 

“Such a mouth on you. For a Mormon.”

“Sort of! Sort of Mormon!”

“Ah, there he is. The unflappable Kevin Price all... flappy.” 

“Ouch,” says Kevin. “You wound me.” 

Connor laughs at him again. Kevin definitely doesn’t feel a little disheartened. That would be ridiculous. Since when has he ever needed approval from the likes of people like Connor? 

“You’re so vanilla,” says Connor. “Have you ever considered that might be the reason you’ve never had great sex?” 

“You’re nosy,” says Kevin. “Did anyone ever tell you that? And there’s nothing wrong with vanilla. Everybody likes vanilla.” 

“Yeah, but nobody _loves_ vanilla, you know what I mean?”

Kevin tenses. So what if he’s boring, that means nobody could ever love him? 

“Fuck you,” says Kevin, and really means it this time. “Have you ever said anything nice about anyone that wasn’t just you lying to get what you wanted?” 

“Oh, that’s mean.” 

“You said I was unlovable. Talk about mean.” 

“Hit a sore spot, did I?” Connor grins. “Okay, whatever, I’m sure you’re right. There’s loads of girls out there looking for a nice Mormon boy ready to settle down. And in another life, I may or may not have fallen madly in love with you on your hair alone.” 

“Thank you,” says Kevin, feeling slightly gratified. He does have great hair. He works hard on it.

They’re quiet for around seven or eight minutes (Kevin counts) before Connor decides to bother him again. 

“You’ll come around, you know.”

“Excuse me?”

“To sleeping with me.” 

It’s a good job Kevin’s not driving, because he probably would have crashed the car just to get Connor to shut up. 

“I really, really won’t,” he says. 

“Boys who like boys can never just be friends,” says Connor. “There’s always going to be an undercurrent of sexual tension. Don’t tell me you can’t feel it too. Mormon’s can’t lie, remember?” 

He’s only sort of a Mormon, though, so Kevin feels confident in saying, “You’re out of your mind. There is zero sexual tension between us.” 

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” says Connor. Kevin has been fighting a losing battle since Connor got into the car. 

Sexual tension! Kevin has never had sexual tension with anyone, never mind this asshole. 

“Do you just assume that everybody wants to have sex with you?”

“It’s usually true,” Connor shrugs. “Most people are easy. It’s college, what do you expect. You’re just a tough nut to crack.” 

“Well, you can give up,” says Kevin. “We could never even be friends.”

“I’m not usually friends with the people I sleep with,” says Connor. 

“Right,” says Kevin. “Because boys who like boys can never be friends.”

“Exactly,” says Connor. He smiles, letting it take over his whole face like he’s lit up from the inside. It’s infuriating. “That’s true of anyone, though. You’re screwed in the friends department, you know, liking both. Straight men and women, they can’t be friends. Lesbians, definitely can’t be just friends. Sex rules the world.” 

“That’s gross,” says Kevin. “You’re gross.” 

“Thank you,” says Connor. “Like I said, you’ll come around.” 

Kevin is going to kill him. He can strangle him right here, dump the body and be out of state in two hours. But they’re already running an hour and twelve minutes late. 

“Do you ever shut up?”

“Sometimes, when I’m with a boy, and -”

“Please don’t finish that sentence. That’s horrible.” 

“Such a Mormon,” Connor mutters. 

“Sort of Mormon,” says Kevin. “I guess old habits die hard.” 

Connor gives him a look that could mean anything. 

“Yeah,” he says, uncharacteristically serious for a second. “You got that right.” 

Kevin wants to ask exactly what Mormonisms Connor can’t shake. But he doesn’t, because he’s not a little shit like Connor clearly tries so hard to be. Kevin is starting to get the feeling that most of it is put on, but he’s not about to call Connor out on it anytime soon. He wants to make a comment about Connor being a good actor, see how Connor likes it when somebody sees right through him for once, but he doesn’t. He has two days left and then he’ll never see him again. And that’s just fine with Kevin. No need for any self-revelatory epiphanies on this trainwreck of a road trip. He just wants to keep his mouth shut, nod politely, and stick to the damned schedule.

***

“Well,” says Connor, when they get to his neighborhood. “This is me!”

“That’s nice,” says Kevin. “Goodbye, I guess.”

When Connor lingers around, Kevin resists the urge to bash his forehead into the horn until he finally, finally leaves. 

“Thanks,” says Connor. “You know. For everything.” 

“Right,” says Kevin. “Thanks for being the biggest pain in the ass a boy could ask for.” 

Connor blows him a kiss, just like he did with Jason not four days ago, and Kevin rolls his eyes. He thinks if Connor makes him roll his eyes any more he’s going be permanently looking backwards. 

“Fuck,” he says to himself, when Connor has disappeared around the corner. He hopes he never sees Connor again in his life. 

***

 

Kevin does, unfortunately, see Connor again. 

This time it's an airport. It’s been three years, two jobs, an engagement, and a welcome yet unexpected introduction of Arnold Cunningham into his life, but he could never, ever forget that face. 

“Julie!” croons Connor, and Kevin freezes. 

“Connor, darling,” says Julie, kissing him on the cheek. Oh, God, they know each other. “How have you been? It’s been so long!”

“About a year and a half, I think,” Connor smiles. He seems a lot less high energy. He’s wearing a shirt and tie and looks absolutely absurd in it. He would have made a bizarre district leader. “I’m swell. Got myself a pretty little gig on Broadway, you know.” 

“Ensemble again?”

Right. Connor was going to act or something. Julie is a make-up artist. It all makes horrible, unfortunate sense. 

“You know it,” says Connor. He looks interestedly over at Kevin. Kevin is looking literally anywhere but at Connor. He pretends to check his flight tickets for the millionth time even though he’s known the time, gate and flight number off the top of his head for the past two days. “And who’s this handsome boy you have on your arm?” 

“Oh,” says Julie. “This is my fiancé, Kevin.” 

“Kevin, huh.” 

“Hello,” says Kevin, when he realizes he has to say something, and gives an awkward wave. 

“I knew a Kevin once,” says Connor. “The most stuck up person I’ve ever met in my life. I’m sure you’re an absolute sweetheart, though.”

Connor grins at him. Kevin knows, in that moment, that Connor recognizes him. Julie laughs, and slaps him on the arm. Julie’s laugh has always sort of grated on Kevin, not that he would ever admit that anything about his fiancé is less than perfect, but hearing it as a direct response to something Connor has said about him sets his teeth on edge. She doesn’t know that she’s laughing at Kevin’s expense, but it still annoys him all the same. 

“You haven’t changed at all.” 

Connor grabs her hand and inspects the ring that Kevin spent months picking out. He looks Kevin in the eye, and Kevin looks back. 

“Gorgeous rock, Jules, honestly. You must be a lucky gal.” 

“I am,” she smiles. 

“I’m going to be late,” says Kevin, nudging Julie. He wishes there was an emergency escape route to get him out of this horrible situation as quickly as possible. The exits are here, here and here. “I better go.” 

“Okay, darling,” she says, and kisses his cheek. “It was so nice to see you,” she says to Connor. 

“Likewise,” says Connor, and smirks at Kevin. Kevin wants the ground to swallow him whole. Connor leaves with a wink and Kevin lets out a sigh of relief. 

“Oh my God, Jules,” says Kevin. “The Kevin he was talking about _was_ me. I drove him from Utah to New York three years ago.”

“What? Really?” she laughs that slightly annoying laugh again and takes his hand. 

“Really,” he says. “He was dating a friend at the time and he still came onto me.”

“You? Really?”

“No need to sound so incredulous,” says Kevin. Why are people - even his fiancé, for Christ’s sake - always surprised that some people consider him attractive? He supposes it’s probably the lack of rampant sexual desire thing, because it’s certainly not due to what he looks like. “Anyway, I think he flirts with everything with a heartbeat.”

“You got that right,” she smiles. “I’m pretty certain he slept with half the cast. He’s a mystery. Anyway, get on your flight. Your sister’s wedding is going to be gorgeous, tell everyone I’m really sorry I can’t go. And send me lots of pictures.” 

“Okay,” says Kevin, and kisses her. “See you.” 

He’s not all that sad to be leaving her for the week, but he pushes _that_ down as far as it can go to think about later when he’s not running eight minutes late. 

Kevin thinks back three years. Connor was insufferable, but he was probably worse. College Kevin was not the nicest person in the world. Thank God Connor didn't say anything. That’s a disaster he’s glad he could avoid. He’s pretty certain that all that childish pettiness would have come rising right back to the surface. 

He gets on the flight twenty three minutes after the gate opens, which is approximately the latest time Kevin has ever boarded a flight. It makes him twitchy, so he’s already a little agitated when he gets on the plane. He can’t stop thinking about the sound of Connor’s voice and how sing-songy and irritating it is. 

“Hello,” says the same sing-song voice next to him on the flight. “Fancy seeing you here.” 

“Oh,” says Kevin. “Um. Hi.” 

He regrets every unfortunate decision he’s ever made which has led him to be sitting on a plane next to Connor McKinley. 

“We drove from college to New York, three years ago.” 

“Yep. That’s me. Surprised you remembered, in all honesty.” 

“I could never forget anybody who thinks Pretty in Pink had the correct ending.”

“Excuse me?” says Kevin, trying to cast his mind back. It’s hard to pinpoint one conversation out of those four, blurry, teeth-pulling days. 

“You thought that Molly Ringwald should have gotten with Andrew McCarthy and not Duckie.” 

“I never said any such thing,” says Kevin. “That’s ridiculous. I would never say that.” 

“Did.”

“Didn’t.”

“Did.” 

“Stop it,” says Kevin. “Even if I did I was younger then. Didn’t know what I was talking about.” 

“Oh, so you don’t favor stability anymore?” 

“Of course I do,” says Kevin. “I’m getting married, aren’t I?” 

“Right,” says Connor. “You’re twenty five years old and settling down. How boring is that?” 

“Well, that’s life, isn’t it? And anyway, what’s so great about yours compared to mine?”

“Fun, excitement, adventure, wild parties and wilder conquests.” 

“Conquests? Is that really how you see people?” 

Connor shrugs. 

“You’re in no position to scrutinize my life when yours is as dull as ever.” 

Kevin has been trying so hard not to judge people who he views as lesser than him - and you can thank Arnold for that awkwardly brutal life lesson - but Connor is really trying his patience. 

“You are just - awful, Connor McKinley. Truly.” 

“Thank you,” says Connor, unfazed. They manage to stay quiet for around sixteen or seventeen minutes. It’s Kevin who breaks the silence. 

“You came onto me.” 

“I did not.”

“Did.”

“Didn’t.”

“Did.” 

“Trust me, I would never, ever come on to you, Kevin Price.” 

“Rude,” says Kevin, and elbows him in the side. It feels a bit familiar and immediately regrets it. “You did. And you were dating my friend at the time.” 

“Oh my God, you’re so right. What was his name?” 

“I cannot believe you. I can’t believe you don’t remember his name.” 

Kevin can’t remember his name either. He thinks it began with a G or a J. George, maybe? But this is something he will never, ever admit to anyone. He is not as bad as Connor McKinley. He just _isn’t._

“Whatever,” says Connor. “He probably doesn’t even remember me.” 

“You’re hard to forget,” says Kevin, and then imagines setting himself on fire. 

Connor looks at him for a long time. Kevin can feel his cheeks burning.

“You too, Kevin Price.” 

Kevin cannot believe he’s going to be sitting on a plane for the next four hours with Connor McKinley. He looks exactly the same and different all at once. He looks older, and has even more freckles - if that’s possible - but he’s still gangly and moves like liquid. He wonders what Connor sees when he looks at him. 

“You said that boys who like boys could never be just friends.” 

“I never said that. I would never say that.” 

“You did,” says Kevin. “You came onto me and then when I said no, you said that boys who like boys could never be friends. And then you said we couldn’t deny our sexual tension.”

Connor raises his eyebrows. 

“Now you mention it, that’s exactly what twenty-two year old me might say.”

“Twenty-two year old me probably didn’t like Duckie, either,” Kevin admits. “I was totally a loser like that.” 

Connor smiles, again, like he can’t stop doing it. It’s infectious, and Kevin involuntarily smiles back. _Traitor_ , his brain tells his mouth. 

“So. Your story. What takes you to Utah?” 

“My sister’s wedding,” says Kevin. “I’m up next, after this one.” 

“Well,” says Connor. “I can’t say I’m surprised that you’re getting married. Living fun and fancy free was never really your thing, was it?”

Connor doesn’t sound condescending about it, just a little pitying. Well, whatever. Each to their own. Kevin calls Connor a number of swear words inside his head, puts his headphones in and tries his very best to ignore him. Connor moves around a lot and his legs are too long and their knees keep knocking. If Kevin had the mental energy to deal with the situation, he would say that Connor was maybe doing it on purpose. 

When they get off the flight, they follow each other out of the airport in silence. Kevin spots his sisters in the arrivals lounge and turns to say goodbye to Connor. He considers just leaving without a word but he is, as always, painfully polite and the idea sets his teeth on edge. 

“See you,” it what he settles on saying. 

“Yeah,” says Connor, giving him a funny look that Kevin’s brain is absolutely not going to over analyze all evening. “See you.” 

Kevin shakes his head and involuntarily gives him a small smile. Kevin thinks he sees Connor smile back, but he turns away too quickly to catch it. 

This time, Kevin tells himself, he definitely won’t see Connor again. New York is a big place, after all. 

***

Kevin and Julie break up. It was sort of inevitable, because Kevin is too neurotic and irritable and codependent, and Julie has always been a little distant and cold with him. And besides, they were only getting married because their moms set them up and that’s just what Mormons do. Even if Kevin is only sort of a Mormon. 

He comes home one day to find half of their stuff packed up. Kevin doesn’t cry, but he does swear and punch the wall, and calls her a number of names that he’s ashamed of. She says she’s leaving him for somebody else who actually appreciates her. He asks her if she doesn’t love him anymore, and she says she doesn’t think she ever loved him. Kevin doesn’t think he ever loved her, either, but that doesn’t stop it from hurting that she’s leaving Kevin for somebody better than him.

She leaves that evening, and that is the end of that. 

***

 

Because the world is cruel to him, Kevin sees Connor McKinley less than a year later. He’s starting to think that fate is playing some kind of twisted joke, so he hides behind a bookshelf and drags Arnold with him. 

“Oh my God, Arnold,” he says, a little bit hysterical. “Do you remember I told you about that guy I traveled from Utah to New York with?”

“Yeah buddy, it’s a good story. Wasn’t he like, a massive jerk who was sexually aggressive towards you?”

“That’s the one, don’t let him see me - oh! Hi, Connor.” 

He tries to make his voice sound even and not like he was just caught hiding in the non-fiction section. 

“Hello Kevin,” says Connor, a smile threatening to break out on his face. “Interested in - plant biology, I see. From social worker to scientist, I see how we made that leap.” 

“How do you even remember that?” says Kevin. 

“I remember lots of things about you,” he says, and nudges his hip with his own. “You were going to your sister’s wedding last time I saw you, right? How was it?” 

“Fine,” says Kevin. “Typical Mormon wedding you know, too many people. Her dress was lovely though.” 

“Better than Molly Ringwald’s prom dress, I assume.” 

“Any dress is better than that dress,” says Kevin. 

“Um,” says Arnold. “I’m just going to - pay for these,” he holds up the books in his arms. “You two have fun,” and he gives Kevin the most unsubtle significant look anybody has ever given anyone. 

“Right,” says Kevin, watching Arnold walk away, feeling a little mystified that for the first time since they met, Kevin actually forgot Arnold was there. Arnold is a character, for lack of a better word. Not that that’s a bad thing. Apparently Kevin has a type. “That’s Arnold, by the way.” 

“Cool,” says Connor, tilting his head at him. “How was your wedding?” 

Kevin fidgets with his fingers. 

“Oh, we broke up,” says Kevin, as nonchalantly as possible. “No big deal.” 

“That’s too bad,” Connor says, not looking like it’s a bad thing at all. “Who broke it off with who?”

“You’re still so nosy,” says Kevin, and then sighs and gives up. “She broke it off with me.” 

“Really?” says Connor, and he looks a little scandalized. “But you’re such a catch.”

“This really isn’t the time for sarcasm,” says Kevin, frowning down at him. “You’re like, tone deaf to conversations, aren’t you?” 

“No, I’m being serious,” says Connor.

Kevin tilts his head and analyses the earnest look on Connor’s face. Kevin has never said no to flattery before. Maybe Connor isn’t so bad after all. 

“Thank you,” says Kevin. “That’s actually a nice thing to say. Who knew you had it in you to be pleasant?”

Connor looks a little shocked that Kevin said something positive about him, even if it is in direct response to an unexpected compliment. 

“Listen,” says Connor, taking advantage of Kevin’s admission that maybe Connor isn’t the worst person in the world. Maybe only third or fourth worst, after Julie and his mother. “I want to take you out to dinner.” 

“Are we becoming friends?” says Kevin. 

“I think we are, yeah,” Connor says. 

Kevin is baffled. Connor just doesn’t seem to ever want to be friends with anyone, let alone the perpetual wet blanket that Kevin is. 

“You’re just going to make fun of every choice I make, from what I pick on the menu to what I’m wearing, aren’t you?”

“Probably,” Connor grins. “I think we’d make good friends, don’t you think? Maybe the universe is telling us something. I just can’t seem to get away from you.” 

“I thought boys who liked boys could never be friends,” says Kevin, but he doesn’t really mean it. He’s found that he’s not all that averse to hanging out with Connor, if he keeps smiling at Kevin like that. He’s like the most annoying personification of sunshine you could imagine. 

“I never said that,” says Connor. “I would never say that.” 

Kevin would swear on his mother’s grave that Connor _winks_ at him. 

“Sure,” he says. “I know a great place round the corner.” 

“You have terrible taste,” says Connor. “You picked the worst diners I could never even dream of when we came up here.” 

“And I had awful dinner company,” says Kevin, and Connor wrinkles his nose at him. “Obnoxious conversationalist.” 

“Charming as ever, Kevin Price,” says Connor. “I’ll pick where we’re going, but I’ll pay. I seem to remember sticking you with the bill everywhere we went. Sound fair?”

“More than fair,” says Kevin, and can’t help the smile that Kevin knows is reaching his eyes. “Do you really think we’d make good friends?” 

“The best,” says Connor, and slings an arm around his shoulders. “Go say goodbye to your friend, and I’ll convince you to let little old me into your highly organized life.” 

“Okay,” says Kevin, not quite sure what he’s agreeing to or why. Connor just seems to be the kind of person who can persuade anyone to do anything he thinks would be fun. He convinced Kevin not to kill him when they drove him more than halfway across the country, after all. “Okay, Connor McKinley, let’s be friends.”

Connor beams at him. Kevin’s brain says, you don’t know what you’re getting into. Kevin doesn’t mind. His life got turned upside down and now everything is back to front. He’s been lonely since Julie left. She took all of their friends and made them his enemies, so if Kevin wants to take an enemy and make him a friend - well, that doesn’t sound too bad. Not if Connor keeps looking at Kevin like a puzzle he’s trying to figure out, like he’s a test Connor wants to ace. Kevin has never backed down from a challenge before, and he’s not about to start now. 

***

 

Being friends with Connor turns out to be much easier than Kevin could have ever imagined. 

It’s not like they run out of things to talk about, what with Kevin’s inability to keep his mouth shut and Connor’s deafeningly loud personality. And once he realizes that the meaner Connor is, the more he likes you, it’s suddenly very easy to take everything he says with a pinch of salt. Connor drags Kevin out to shows and bars and Kevin meets half a dozen different people every week. Kevin makes sure Connor brushes his teeth and gets to his rehearsals on time and makes him real food instead of letting Connor microwave everything. It works. It’s strange and a little unusual but Kevin is definitely not complaining about the sudden and overwhelming presence of Connor McKinley in every facet of his life. Which, if you asked him four years ago, was so far out of the realm of possibility that he would have laughed in your face. Still, people grow. People grow older. People grow towards each other, entangling themselves in each other’s lives until they can’t remember which part of them is Kevin and which part is Connor. 

It just happens so quickly, and Kevin finds himself sometimes, stood in his bathroom brushing his teeth while Connor narrates the movie they’re watching so Kevin doesn’t miss anything, suddenly overwhelmed with affection and confusion _over_ that affection. What series of events led him to wearing one of his socks and one of Connor’s socks? How did he end up knowing exactly how to make Connor McKinley’s coffee and how his hair looks all sideways in the morning? 

Kevin’s phone rings. 

“Hello?” he asks sleepily. It’s eleven p.m. That’s way past Kevin’s bedtime, much to Connor’s amusement. 

“Ten things I hate about you is on TV.” 

“I could list about six things I hate about you right now,” says Kevin, then yawns obnoxiously so Connor can hear it down the phone. “Number one, you woke me up. Number two, you called me when you knew I would be asleep specifically to wake me up. Number three, you called me specifically to wake me up because you knew it would annoy me. Number four, you think annoying me is funny. Are you seeing a pattern?” 

“Ha ha,” says Connor’s voice, sounding too far away. “Who knew you were devastatingly handsome _and_ have a good sense of humor? How’s that fair?” 

“Flattery will get you nowhere,” says Kevin. Connor snorts. 

“That’s not even a little bit true. You get off on it. Anyway, I would be nowhere without my ability to butter up anybody who needs buttering.” 

“And your daring wit,” says Kevin, turning on his bedside lamp. 

“That too,” Connor agrees. “Wanna watch the movie with me? I can’t sleep.” 

“Sure,” says Kevin, and turns on the TV. 

“I love this part,” says Connor, and then remains what Kevin would have previously assumed was suspiciously quiet but now knows as Connor running out of steam. Connor doesn’t really sleep. It’s really annoying when he stays over and seemingly clangs every pot Kevin owns together in the kitchen at three a.m. when he has to be up for work at seven, but Kevin doesn’t mind really. He hates the idea of Connor sitting alone in his tiny apartment laid awake with nothing to do other than think about whatever-it-is that plagues him. Kevin stays quiet too. He watches the movie with Connor over the phone until he falls asleep, screen sticking to his cheek. When he wakes up, he has three unread messages from Connor. He only pays attention to the last text, and spends the rest of the day thinking about the little _x_ next to _good morning sunshine!! :)_

***

Connor doesn’t really leave the house during the day, so Kevin starts forcing him out after his nights off. They go get brunch, they catch an early movie when Connor is hungover, that sort of thing. Connor looks healthier and happier, and Kevin probably does too. Misery loves company, after all. Kevin’s company just happens to be a ball of energy who bounces on his heels and slings an arm around Kevin’s shoulders and kisses him on the cheek at every available opportunity. He consistently comments on all of Kevin’s best and worst features in equal measure, and Kevin tries to return the favor but finds himself in awe of Connor more than he finds him irritating. How did this happen, he laments, watching Connor talk to a pigeon as if it’s a person and trying to feed it half of his sandwich. 

Sometimes they hold sporting events with the kids from work, just small things like setting up a baseball game on the weekends or after school. Kevin doesn’t get paid for but he enjoys it anyway, because he’s good at it. He drags a grumbling Connor to one and introduces him to the kids. They’re enamored with him, and Kevin thinks it’s probably because Connor is seemingly comfortable with himself in a way that none of them will ever be capable of (even if Kevin knows that’s a big fat lie). Connor, on the other hand, clearly hates it, but you’d only realize if you knew him really, really well. Which Kevin does now. It’s a weird feeling, to know somebody this well who isn’t Arnold. He’s not taking any chances though, because he thought he knew Julie inside out and didn’t even realize she didn’t want to marry him. Kevin will probably always have a wall up in his brain stopping himself from being that codependent again. He’s aware that it’s only an illusion of a wall, and he’s _already_ codependent on Arnold and definitely getting there with Connor, but it makes him feel better to think he might have a shred of independence somewhere inside him. What Kevin refers to as an emotional wall, Connor describes as putting all of your negative feelings into little boxes in your mind and never thinking about them again. They’re not so different, after all. 

“This is awful,” Connor mutters to him. “Sports aren’t exactly my friend. Remind me why I let you drag me here again?” 

“Because you love me and want to spend time with me,” says Kevin. 

“I highly doubt that,” says Connor. “It probably has more to do with the fact that I get to see you in tiny shorts and laugh at you.” 

“They’re not tiny,” says an affronted Kevin. “They’re a completely acceptable length. How dare you slander my character in this way.”

“Whatever,” says Connor. “You can’t deny you’re wearing a t-shirt that’s two sizes too small for you because you wanted to show off your incredibly well defined-arms, you handsome devil.”

“Connor,” says Kevin, and runs a hand over his face. “This is your shirt. I stayed over at yours last night.”

“Oh right,” says Connor. “I dressed you so _I_ could drool over your aforementioned well-defined arms.” 

“Stop it,” says Kevin. “Flirting will get you nowhere. I’m emotionally unavailable.”

Connor gives Kevin a funny look, but Kevin can’t dwell on it for too long, because he’s up next.

Connor flirts a lot, and it confuses Kevin sometimes. It’s not that he’s not used to people flirting with him, because he is well aware of exactly what he looks like, but usually he can just clam up and leave the coffee shop or wherever and then never think about it again. 

He thinks that Connor does it because he thinks it’s funny, and that kind of wounds Kevin’s pride a little. Either that, or he’s trying to soften the blow for when Kevin is forced to date again. Whenever that’ll be. Probably not for a long time. It feels easy and familiar, though, so sometimes Kevin flirts back. It’s just how they function, he tells himself. Connor has chosen Kevin to actually mean something to him, by picking him to fill the coveted best friend spot; somebody to care about who he hasn’t had sex with, and if that doesn’t make him feel special and warm inside he doesn’t know what will. Connor is just the kind of person that makes you desperate for him to like you. And Kevin loves to be liked. 

When the game is over, Kevin ignores the no touching rule (he’s gotten pretty good at not following rules) to give everyone a high five, because everybody wants to feel special sometimes, that’s not just a Kevin-is-self-involved-and-needs-everybody-to-love-him thing. Harriet hugs him around the middle and she only comes up to his chest, and he hugs her back. It’s nice, to feel good at his job. Kevin likes being good at things. He catches Connor watching him with a smile, and Kevin smiles back. 

“That was a nice thing to do,” says Connor, walking back home with him. “Thanks for taking me, even though I sucked.” 

“You didn’t suck,” says Kevin, then pulls a face back at Connor when he glares at him. “Okay, maybe you sucked. But you had fun, right?”

“Of course,” says Connor. “I generally have fun when I hang out with you.” 

“Really?” says Kevin, who _definitely_ doesn’t preen. When was the last time somebody called him fun? 

“No, I only hang out with you because you bore me to death,” and now it’s Connor’s turn to roll his eyes. Kevin is suddenly overwhelmed with just how grateful he is for Connor’s presence in his life, so he pulls him into a side hug while they walk and laughs when Connor trips over his own feet. 

Kevin goes to his show that night to return the favor, and doesn’t pay any attention to the play because he was too busy watching Connor in the background. He’s not going to be telling Connor that anytime soon. He tells Connor that the play was stupid and he hated it, but he says whilst elbowing him in the side so Connor knows that he’s joking. Connor just grins at him and says it’s a shame he has to see it at least eight more times to make up for how often Kevin has dragged Connor out before eleven am. Kevin goes to the after party, and gets hideously drunk. Connor takes a bunch of photos on his phone to embarrass Kevin at a later date, and Kevin tells six different people about the time Connor threw up in his own shoes as payback. He has _fun_. 

He and Connor stumble back to Connor’s apartment afterwards and fall asleep on each other, curled up on the sofa watching The Princess Bride. When Kevin wakes up too early in the morning, he watches Connor’s eyelashes flutter and how he frowns in his sleep. His mind wanders back four years ago, in that sweltering hot car, and remembers how much he hated Connor in that moment. He brushes the hair out of Connor’s eyes and thinks about how, against all odds, Connor was wrong. Boys who like boys can be friends, after all. 

 

***

 

Connor has a friend called Nabulungi. Connor describes her as the only real friend he met before Kevin in New York, and Kevin knows how that feels. He also describes her as a force of nature and ‘an absolute doll’, and within five minutes of meeting her he knows exactly what Connor means. 

“If you hurt him,” she says. “I will kill you. Slowly. And painfully.”

“Um,” Kevin says. 

“He’s fragile,” says Nabulungi, and Kevin is taken aback. He thought he knew Connor pretty well by now, but fragile is not one of the words he would ever have used to describe him. He’s not great on picking up on social cues, and Connor often tells him he has the emotional intelligence of a thirteen year old, so maybe there’s a lot he’s missing about his Sparkly New Favorite Person. 

“Is he?” says Kevin, and she narrows her eyes at him, thrusting a drink towards him in a threatening manner. 

“Drink this,” she says. “I’ll probably get over my irrational protectiveness if we get drunk.” 

“Right,” says Kevin. She’s just like Connor. Fierce and confusing, three steps ahead of everyone and leaving Kevin in their wake feeling lost and confused. “Okay. Let’s do it.”

They do two shots together, and then Kevin starts on the vodka, and he watches Connor dance with two different guys out of the corner of his eye before he realizes Nabulungi is watching him with a smirk. 

“He’s something, isn’t he?”

Kevin doesn’t know how he’s supposed to respond to that. He feels a bit like he’s meeting Julie’s family for the first time all over again, only this time there’s blessed alcohol involved and Kevin isn’t having sex with anybody. 

“Yeah,” replies Kevin. He doesn’t say anything else, but he does order them both another shot of tequila. She takes it back without lime or salt. Kevin hates to admit that he’s impressed. He generally doesn’t like it when people can do things he can’t. 

“I have decided I like you,” she tells him, sounding suspiciously sober. She can really take her alcohol. Kevin, unfortunately, can’t. He feels a bit hazy and his mouth speaks before his brain does. 

“Oh, thank God,” is what he says, and can feel himself turning bright pink when she starts laughing at him. “I, um. Like you too.”

“That’s good,” she says. “Because Connor talks about you all the time. He insists he’s not sleeping with you, and I never believed him, but you act like you haven’t had sex in years.” 

“Just the one year,” he says, out of a battered sense of pride. “It’s only been a year.”

“I was joking,” says Nabulungi. “I didn’t need to know that.” 

“Well, it’s proof, isn’t it? Everybody thinks we’re sleeping together. But, nope.”

“Why not?” says Nabulungi. She sounds like Arnold. Everyone is singing the same old tune.

“Because we don’t want to?” 

“Sure,” says Nabulungi. “I don’t believe it when he says it, and I definitely don’t believe you when you say it. Have you seen Connor?”

“I have,” says Kevin. “Many times. Shirtless, too. Does nothing for me.”

“You’re a bad liar,” says Nabulungi. “Mormons are always bad liars.”

“Sort of Mormon,” Kevin says, out of habit. Then he says, because he always uses this to get people to shut up, “I was engaged. She broke it off with me. I haven’t, you know. Since.” 

“That’s the saddest story I’ve ever heard,” she says, not sounding sad at all. Nabulungi and Connor are suspiciously alike. “Unfortunately I left my tiny violin at home.” 

“Get lost,” he says, smiling. 

“Connor could probably get you laid, if you wanted.”

Kevin chokes on his drink. 

“No,” he says. “No, nope, definitely not.”

“Whatever,” Nabulungi shrugs. “Your loss.” 

The thing is, Connor probably could get him laid. He’s not quite sure why he hasn’t taken Connor up on it before. Well, he does know that it has something to do with performance nerves, but the longer he leaves it the worse it’s going to get. He has a sneaking suspicion that it has something to do with the fact that it’s Connor, and something about it feels cheap and wrong. Kevin has standards, something which is apparently lost on Connor. Kevin wants it to mean something. It’s just who he is. One night stands aren’t really his style. 

“Do you want to dance?” he asks Nabulungi, and she looks at him like he’s grown two heads. Whatever. He’s got liquid courage and people to impress. 

“You are not the dancing type,” she says. 

“Nope,” says Kevin. “Doesn’t mean I can’t, though. Come on, I’ll show you my moves.”

She smiles, for the first time that evening, and it’s warm and bright and he can see why Connor likes her so much. She takes his hand and pulls him onto the dancefloor. Kevin dances, and he dances _badly_ , but Nabulungi is laughing and letting him twirl her around, out of rhythm with the music. 

Connor catches Kevin’s eye. He grins at him, and Kevin grins back. Nabulungi opens her arms wide and Connor falls into them, twisting her so he can hug her from behind. Kevin loves seeing Connor like this. In his element and more than a little drunk. It’s nice, to see him when he’s not performing for once. He’s just Connor, and she’s just Nabulungi. He’s just Kevin, and they’re friends just having drinks and dancing. 

Maybe Kevin should take a leaf out of Connor’s book; stop acting and just be himself. The problem is, he doesn’t really know exactly who that is. Half of Kevin is Arnold, and the rest is a mystery that he can’t quite figure out. Connor kisses him on the cheek and buys him another shot, and Kevin thinks, maybe it doesn’t matter. He can figure it out later. There’s always later. 

***

 

Kevin and Connor decide that it’s a good idea to introduce Arnold and Nabulungi, because then they can hang out with all of their friends at the same time. And the bonus of having four people instead of two to play videogames with. 

They just didn’t expect Arnold and Nabulungi to get on quite as well as they do. They’re both oddly opinionated, fierce in their convictions, and possess the ability to rally people into doing things they wouldn’t normally do. And they have both never, ever been able to have even a semi-successful relationship before. Nabulungi tends to go for unavailable men, and Arnold tends to never go for anyone ever. 

“You’re cute,” Nabulungi tells Arnold when they’re all out for dinner, and Arnold’s burrito explodes open all down his shirt. “Isn’t he cute?”

Kevin nods in agreement, because he _is_ cute, and Connor just looks astounded. 

“That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said about anyone,” says Connor, and Nabulungi shrugs. 

“What? He is like a breath of fresh air, aren’t you, Arnold?”

Arnold swallows his food down audibly and stares at her. Kevin can practically see his eyes turn into cartoonish heart shapes. No girl has ever said anything like that to Arnold before. Come to think of it, no guys have either, barr Kevin, who has been a little too affectionate with Arnold as long as he can remember. 

“I guess so?” 

“You are,” says Nabulungi. “Guys suck - no offense, boys - but you are different. Kevin has told me all about you.” 

“Oh,” says Arnold. “They’ve said a lot about you, too.” 

He’s stammering, and Kevin thinks it’s the best thing he’s ever seen. His heart swells with pride. Arnold is going to have a _girlfriend_. Maybe they’ll get married and have little babies and Kevin can be a fun Uncle. 

“Only good things, I hope,” she says, glaring at Kevin and Connor with _I will kill you if you’ve fucked this up for me_ eyes. 

“Only the best things,” says Connor, nodding enthusiastically. He obviously supports this union as much as Kevin does. 

“You’re, uh,” says Arnold, looking like a beetroot. “You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen in my life." 

Connor exchanges a look with Kevin, and there’s a glint in his eye that makes Kevin grin. 

“Me and Kevin are going to go for a walk,” says Connor, and then grasps Kevin’s shirt at the shoulder to haul him up. “Leave you two lovebirds alone.”

Kevin thinks they don’t even hear them and probably won’t notice that they’ve left, because there are stars in Arnold’s eyes and Nabulungi has her chin resting on both her hands and is smiling at him like he’s the only thing in the world. 

Connor slips his arm in the crook of Kevin’s arm as they walk. 

“I wish it were that easy for everyone,” says Kevin. 

“Maybe it is,” says Connor. “You just haven’t met that person yet.”

“Do you think we’ll ever meet, you know. The one?”

“Maybe,” says Connor. “Maybe we already have and we never even realized it. Maybe our one true loves have passed us by now and our husband - or wife - is going to be married to someone else and we’ll never even know, and then we’ll die alone and sad.”

“What are you even talking about?” says Kevin. “That is the most depressing thing I’ve ever heard.” 

“Well, it’s true, isn’t it? Maybe one of the many guys I slept with was the one, and I totally ruined it by being you know, kinda slutty, and because I have no self-control when it comes to my love life, it’ll bite me in the ass when I’m old and grey and no longer sexually attractive.”

“Redheads don’t go grey for ages,” says Kevin. “You’ll be fine. You’re not even thirty yet.”

“Ugh,” says Connor. “I can’t believe you just used the t-word.” 

“In like _four years_ ,” says Kevin. “That’s ages away. You’ll be fine, Connor McKinley. I’ll make sure you don’t die alone, don’t you worry.” 

“Promise me we’ll be friends forever?”

“Of course we will,” says Kevin. “I don’t make friends easily.” 

“We can sit in rocking chairs and knit scarves for each other. It’ll be absolutely adorable.”

“Exactly,” says Kevin. “Think about how many romantic comedies will come out in the next fifty years. We can sit and watch them and bitch about what everyone is wearing and how the love interests are creepy.”

“You are a gift to mankind, Kevin Price,” says Connor, and rests his head on his shoulder for a little while. “They’re going to be such a cute couple, aren’t they? I can’t believe I didn’t see this coming.”

“The cutest,” Kevin agrees, and pushes down the feelings of inadequacy that are threatening to bubble up in his throat. He always gets this way about Arnold. Arnold is unashamed of himself in a way that Kevin has never encountered before. Everything always seems to come easy to him, despite being the human equivalent of a bull in a china shop. “Were you talking about anybody in particular?”

“Hm? Oh, no, not really,” says Connor. “Well, maybe one or two people who I actually genuinely liked. Steve, maybe. But nothing has ever worked out, you know?”

“I know,” says Kevin. “Your way is probably better than my way, anyway. At least you’re having fun.”

Connor looks at him in a way that Kevin doesn’t understand. 

“I’m not sure fun is the word I’d use,” says Connor. He doesn’t say anything else, so Kevin doesn’t push it. 

“I can totally be your date when you don’t have one,” says Kevin. “Like, at weddings and New Year’s and stuff. I’ll write you valentine’s day cards and everything.”

“You’re sweet,” says Connor. “But what if you’re in a relationship?”

Kevin snorts. He’s probably never going to be in a relationship again. At least not for a long time. He’s been there, done that. 

“Highly unlikely,” says Kevin. “Having your heart broken kinda knocks you out for a few years.” 

Connor hums. 

“We should make a pact,” says Connor. “Like, if neither of us are married at forty we should marry each other. We can adopt little sprogs and be weird alternative dads.”

“You’ve got a deal, Connor McKinley,” says Kevin. “I would shake your hand but you’re already holding it.” 

Connor, for lack of a better word, _beams_ at him. 

It’s not a bad plan, not really. He wishes, more than anything, that somebody would look at him the way Arnold and Nabulungi did. Julie never looked at him like that. Nobody ever has. It would be nice, to have somebody who loves him unconditionally, who isn’t going to leave him, who makes him feel better about himself when his self-esteem is ebbing dangerously low. He wishes he had the ability to do what Connor does, enjoy being single until he’s not anymore, but he doesn’t. He’s kind of an all-or-nothing guy. And maybe Julie was his soulmate, and they met at the wrong time under the wrong circumstances. Maybe there isn’t that one perfect person for everybody. And, well. Connor is the next best thing. 

***

Since they started going everywhere together, he worries that Arnold is a little bit put out. But he has Nabulungi now, and if Kevin fills the Arnold-shaped gap in his life with Connor McKinley, so what? He’s allowed to have more than one friend. He has a grand total of _three_ real, honest to God I-would-die-for-you friends, and it’s more emotionally fulfilling than Kevin ever would have imagined. He’s not quite sure why he never tried this before. He’s always been a little bit of a loner, but then Arnold barged into his life and demanded Kevin’s attention and that was that. 

Then he met Connor, and well - Connor is something else entirely. Arnold unlocked parts of Kevin he didn’t know he was squirrelling away, but Connor _changed_ him. He never used to enjoy going out, or meeting new people, or drinking or musicals or staying up late and waking up later. Then he went to see Connor in his show, and he went to the after party, and Connor laughed at him so much that Kevin started laughing too. He’d never really been able to make fun of himself. It’s all been downhill from there. 

Connor does a commercial for soap, and Kevin records it so he can watch it over and over again and laugh at him until his sides hurt. Connor hits him every time he brings it up, but Kevin knows that he’s secretly pleased that Kevin cares so much about what he does. Connor starts coming to every after-school activity that Kevin organizes, even though he hates it, just because he wants to spend more time with Kevin than he already does. Kevin also thinks that he gets off on the starry-eyed kids who are excited that a real Broadway actor is hanging out with them, but Kevin doesn’t blame him. He likes it when people are excited to be in the same room as him, too. 

Kevin buys a frame and puts a picture of Connor and Kevin at an after-party in it, bleary eyed, and Connor’s arm is slung around Kevin’s shoulders. Kevin looks happier than he has in a long time. He puts it next to a photo of Kevin and Arnold and feels pleased every time he looks over at his windowsill and reminds himself that there are two people in this world who love him. 

“You look handsome as can be in this picture,” says Connor, when he sees it. Kevin preens. Connor doles out compliments as much as insults, and it always makes Kevin feel warm and happy. “I’m pretty certain you threw up about five minutes after this was taken, though.”

“Connor. You threw up, not me.”

“Oh, you’re right. I threw up on you, I remember now.” 

Kevin doesn’t say that’s the reason he chose that picture to put up - because it’s just so _them_ \- but Connor’s probably already figured it out, if that small smile is anything to go by. He’s astute like that. Connor is aware of Kevin in a way that Kevin is not about himself. Sometimes it’s infuriating, but mostly it’s useful on Kevin’s ongoing quest of self-improvement. 

Now it’s summer, Kevin’s new favorite thing is dragging Connor out on walks in the park. Connor makes glib comments about how they make such a cute couple, and how all they need are some adorable adopted Chinese baby girls in matching strollers, but Kevin just ignores him and wordlessly hands over the coffee he bought for him. 

“Remember when coffee was a sin?” says Connor, making grabby hands. “How can God create such a divine drink and then deny us its delights.” 

“And again, hot drinks are not for the body or belly,” says Kevin, taking a sip. 

“Any man drinketh wine or strong drink among you, behold it is not good.” 

“Heathen,” says Kevin. 

“You know it,” says Connor, and sticks his tongue out. “It is far too early to be quoting scripture.”

“That’s a ridiculous sentence and you know it,” says Kevin. “Did you even go to the missionary training centre before you defected?” 

“Of course I did,” says Connor. “Same as you. I was training to be District Leader and everything.”

“You did not,” says Kevin. “You say a lot of unbelievable things, you know, but that really takes the cake.”

“No, I’m being serious,” says Connor. “My parents thought that it would be a good _influence_ on me. Nobody was that surprised I dropped out, though. And I haven’t really spoken to them since, as you already gathered.”

“I was the Mormon poster child,” Kevin admits. “Like, the real deal. I was supposed to change the world. And then, well.”

“What happened?”

“I grew up,” Kevin shrugs. “I grew out of it. I saw the other side and thought it looked better, so. And then I met Arnold and would you believe he was a Mormon too, and he basically said you should be allowed to make your own rules based on your own values and not on what some book says, and that was kinda the deal breaker.”

“Arnold is smarter than he looks, huh.”

“By far,” says Kevin. “If you ever wanna hash out some ex-Mormon issues, Arnold is your guy.” 

“Cool,” says Connor. “Wanna go see a movie with me tonight?” 

“Totally,” says Kevin. 

“Awesome,” says Connor. “I can always rely on you to entertain me while sober, it is a rare gift.” 

“You’re welcome,” says Kevin. “And I can always rely on you to entertain me while I’m drunk. Which is a vice I picked up from you, by the way. You’re a terrible influence.”

“I have been called that many times,” says Connor. “But it means the most to me when you say it.” 

Kevin feels a little thrill of happiness run up and down his spine. No matter how many times Connor says something like that, puts Kevin on a pedestal like he’s the most important person in Connor’s life, it’ll never lose its novelty. Connor treats Kevin like he’s something precious, like having him in his life is something he’s not quite over yet. Kevin is, at his core, as egotistical as everybody says he is, no matter how much Kevin tries to squash that part of himself. And if Connor wants to feed that part of himself, well, who is Kevin to turn the attention down? 

If it was a competition, Kevin knows he would win. And Kevin revels in winning. Kevin has always wanted to be the best, and since he left the Church he hasn’t really had a clear idea of exactly what he wanted to be the best at. Now he has a better idea, and that idea is being the best best friend to Connor McKinley. He’s good at it. He knows how Connor works, he knows what it is that drives him, what gets him up in the morning. He knows the secrets that Connor locked away inside of him, never to be thought of again. He knows how Connor flirts with everything under the sun because that’s how Connor deals with his issues. He knows how Connor wants everybody to love him. And Kevin is going to be the best at it, whether Connor likes it or not. 

***

“I don’t get it,” says Arnold one day when they’ve met on a lunch break. “You’re both single, you enjoy each other’s company, you can never shut up about him. Why aren’t you dating?” 

Kevins glares at Arnold over his sandwich. He doesn’t know how many times he’s going to have to go over this. 

“Because,” he says, slowly. “We’re not in love?” 

“You are in love,” says Arnold. “You are so in love. You’re just an idiot.” 

“I am not in love,” says Kevin. “Well, I’m like, in friend love with him. I’m in friend love with you too, you know, and nobody is harassing me to sleep with _you_.” 

“I’m too good for you,” says Arnold. “I’m way out of your league.” 

Kevin snorts. He’s probably not wrong. 

“Look,” he says. “I get it, I really do. I get how it looks. But it’s so not like that.” 

“Really,” says Arnold. “Because I don’t believe you.” 

“It’s nice to have another friend in the city. And besides, you know, there’s the whole Julie thing.” 

There’s not really the whole Julie thing anymore, but being only sort of Mormon means he doesn’t feel all that bad about lying. 

“Sorry,” Arnold says, around a mouthful of meatballs. Kevin wrinkles his nose in a vague distaste. “I forgot.” 

“Yeah,” says Kevin. “People seem to be doing that a lot.” 

“Still hurts?”

“Yep,” says Kevin, and that’s all he wants to say about the matter.

It’s not that he’s not over her, or anything. His eyes have been opened to a whole new way of living, and Julie, bless her mundane heart, would never fit into his new life. He only misses her occasionally, when it’s very late at night and he’s alone and his brain won’t shut up. His brain is definitely a rambler. But he can just text Arnold or Connor or occasionally Nabulungi, who always has excellent advice, and then everything seems a little bit brighter. 

He never thought of himself as extroverted, but, well. He needs people, otherwise his brain will eat him alive with dark thoughts and a tiny, tiny spark of self-hatred that threatens to explode any minute. He didn’t know this about himself until Julie left, and suddenly he wasn’t living with anyone, had no one to give him affection when he needed it, had nobody to give affection to when _they_ needed it, and he found himself adrift in an empty sea of emotions he didn’t know what to do with. No, he definitely doesn’t want her back. But it’s his pride - his stupid, all consuming pride - that just can’t get over it. 

“Cool,” says Arnold. “That’s okay, though. You probably just need to meet the right person, or something. And buddy, old pal of mine, Jules was definitely not the right person for you.” 

“Yeah,” says Kevin. “I mean, it’s not like I don’t know that. It’s just difficult.” 

“You’re so much happier since you broke up,” says Arnold, and a little treacherous part of brain replies _you mean since I became friends with Connor_. That is definitely something to think about later, probably, even though he won’t. He’s only got seven minutes left on his lunchbreak. 

“So you and Nabulungi, huh,” says Kevin. 

“Me and Nabulungi,” Arnold says. “Isn’t it _awesome_?” 

“You’re not wrong,” says Kevin, neatly folding up the paper bag his sandwich came in. “You guys are cute.” 

“Now, she’s way out of _my_ league,” says Arnold. “I still can’t believe she likes me.”

“Everyone likes you,” says Kevin, instinctively. “And anybody who doesn’t is stupid.”

Arnold looks at him with a familiar affection. It makes Kevin a little uncomfortable - something about Arnold’s unwavering dedication to him bothers him. He doesn’t think he deserves him. He doesn’t quite know what he did to get Arnold to love him so much. They met at a really bad time in Kevin’s life, when he still had a stick up his ass and he thought getting married was the only important thing he’d ever do in his life. He’s looser now, and friendlier, and more open with his emotions to people instead of acting weird whenever anybody gets close to him. There’s a line, though. He’s still Kevin Emotionally Stunted Price, so he pulls a face at Arnold and brushes it off. 

“Thanks, buddy,” Arnold smiles, big and wide and toothy. “You too, you know?”

Kevin doesn’t believe him, but he smiles and nods and says thank you anyway. 

He pays for them both, and goes back to work. There are people to help, people to save, and nothing can fix his dented pride more than that. He’s working on it. One day he won’t be embarrassed that he got dumped. One day he’ll be able to laugh at it, like it’s just a good story. It already feels a little like it happened to somebody else, because he’s a different person now. He’ll get there, eventually.

***

Connor comes over when Kevin finds a ring in an envelope pushed under his door. 

Arnold would be his first choice, but Arnold is out of town. Connor is the next best thing, and may even be the _better_ thing, because he brings three movies, ice cream and pajamas. He already has a toothbrush here that Kevin bought for him so Connor would stop using his.

He types out four different texts to Connor to try to persuade him to come and be a shoulder to cry on, but nothing sounds right. He settles on taking a picture of the ring and sending it to Connor with no context. He doesn’t really have the words to explain how he feels about it. 

Connor turns up thirty five minutes later, and pulls Kevin in for a hug, cold ice cream digging into his back uncomfortably. Kevin doesn’t mind, because Connor is warm and solid and wrapped around him, and the closeness to another human being makes Kevin feel much less small in a big, big world. 

“What a horrible thing to do,” says Connor, flopping down on the couch and beckoning Kevin to come join him. He sits gingerly on the edge, back straight, until Connor makes an incredulous noise in his throat and pulls him back by the neck of his shirt. “This is your apartment, stupid. Is asking if you’re okay a ridiculous question?” 

“Kind of,” says Kevin. “I don’t know.”

“That’s okay,” says Connor. “Do you want to talk about it?” 

“Probably not,” says Kevin. “But I should, right?”

“Hey, you’re talking to the king of bottled up emotions here. Might not be the best person to ask.” 

His mind thinks there’s a joke about repressed Mormons somewhere in there, but he doesn’t have the energy to figure it out. Connor puts his head on Kevin’s shoulder and sighs.

“Kevin and Julie doesn’t really have the right ring to it, you know?” says Connor. “Besides, you should pawn this and get money so we can go out and drink your sorrows.” 

Kevin smiles, despite his best efforts not to. 

“That’s a good idea,” he says. “But not right now. I need to - I don’t know. Cry, or something.” 

“If you were going to cry I think you would have done it a long time ago,” says Connor. 

“Maybe,” says Kevin. 

“No, I’m serious,” he says. “If I thought you were going to cry I would’ve brought tissues. But I know you, and what we need to do right now is watch Pretty Woman and eat this ice cream I went ten minutes out of my way to buy. And it wasn’t cheap, either. You’re worth the good stuff.”

Kevin smiles, properly this time, like he can’t control the way the corners of his mouth tug upwards and his cheeks dimple. 

“Yeah,” says Kevin. “Yeah, okay.” 

They watch the movie, and Kevin spills ice cream all over the couch, and Connor acts out his favorite parts. Connor catches Kevin looking at him, and he must see something in Kevin’s face because he smiles at him, so open and wide and ridiculous, and Kevin is consumed with a feeling he can’t put his finger on, so he punches Connor in the shoulder.

By the time the night is over and Connor has miraculously fallen asleep half in Kevin’s lap, he’s forgotten all about the ring on the counter. When he notices it he’s fetching a blanket for Connor. He puts it in a drawer and doesn’t think about it for a long, long time. 

***

Kevin loves Christmas, he really does. But he hates all the stupid activities that come with it, especially when they’re Connor’s ideas. Connor has terrible ideas that include going to a fancy dress party (Kevin’s worst nightmare), going fucking _carol singing_ , and the horror of all horrors: ice skating. 

“Stop it,” Kevin says, scowling. “We look ridiculous.” 

What Kevin means is, you look ridiculous and I’m suffering from second hand embarrassment and if you don’t stop attempting to do a pirouette I’m going to pretend I came here alone. 

“You’re no fun. Did anyone ever tell you that?” 

“You do,” says Kevin, raising his eyebrows. “Every day.”

“Oh, good,” says Connor, wobbling a little. “Somebody needs to. Live a little, Kevin Price.” 

“I let you drag me out here in the first place, didn’t I?” says Kevin, letting Connor pull him along the ice by the hand. “Oh, God, Connor, put me down.” 

“Never,” Connor says. “Come embarrass yourself with me. Try it, you might like it.”

“Doubtful,” says Kevin, but he smiles anyway. 

He falls over twice, and Connor laughs at him, but Kevin is getting more and more used to being laughed at every day. 

Suddenly he hears something he never thought he’d hear. Not here, not anywhere really. He should have planned for this inevitability. He freezes. He can’t help but recognize that voice. He nudges Connor in the side, and he almost skids across the ice, dragging Kevin with him. Kevin manages to keep his grip and hauls Connor up. Connor slides his gloved fingers in Kevin’s. 

“Connor,” he hisses. “Connor, it’s Julie.” 

Connor stops dead. It’s the stillest he’s ever seen him, and it throws Kevin off for a second. 

“Hi, Kevin,” says Julie. Kevin tries to drop Connor’s hand, but Connor just holds on tighter. Kevin can feel her eyes on their joined fingers and she purses her lips. 

“Hi, Jules,” says Kevin. He’s never felt this awkward before in his whole entire life, and he’s _Kevin Price_. Julie just stares at him, and Kevin doesn’t know what to do with that. Any words he might have to say clam up in his throat when he notices the man standing next to her. He’s tall and dark and handsome in all the ways Kevin never quite managed to be. He thinks he might throw up. 

“Hi,” says Connor, doing a little wave with his free hand. 

“Connor,” she says. “What a surprise.” 

“I’m full of them,” says Connor. He still won’t let go of Kevin’s hand. 

“I didn’t know you two were acquainted,” she says. She looks gorgeous and as pristine as ever. That’s how they functioned as a couple. They were picture perfect and enviable and never had a hair out of place, with good jobs and a big fat ring on Julie’s finger. Now Kevin’s pants are wet from falling over on the ice and he’s pretty certain he has food around his mouth and his hair is sticking up weird. Oh, God. 

“It’s none of your business,” says Connor, brightly. 

“Good little guard dog you’ve got there, Kevin,” says Julie, and judging by the awkward laugh Kevin thinks it might be a joke but it falls very, very flat. When they met, ‘good sense of humor’ was not a selling point of hers. Kevin surprises himself by thinking about how boring they were. When did he stop favoring having a quiet life? “This is Daniel.”

Daniel nods to Kevin, as if they have some understanding. The jokes on him, because Kevin doesn’t understand anything. 

“Well, it’s good to see you both.”

“Right,” Kevin says, trying to talk with a mouth full of cotton wool. His tongue feels big and weird. “You, too.” 

They finally, blessedly, leave. Kevin watches them walk off until they’re out of sight, before he sighs and slumps against Connor. He squeezes Kevin’s hand. 

“I never liked her anyway,” Connor says, and he sounds like he really means it. “When I bumped into you guys at the airport I was honestly shocked. You could always do better than her, even when I hated you.” 

“You never hated me,” says Kevin, a little dazed. 

“I did,” says Connor. “With every fiber of my being.”

“Mormon’s can’t lie,” Kevin reminds him. 

“Sort of Mormon,” says Connor, to make Kevin smile. It works. “You hated me, through.” 

“I did,” says Kevin. “I thought you were a giant pain in the ass.”

“I was,” says Connor. “I can’t believe you said that Molly Ringwald should have gotten with Andrew McCarthy and I still came onto you.” 

Connor is still holding Kevin’s hand. Kevin doesn’t want Connor to let go, wants to allow him to anchor Kevin to the ground before his brain floats off into anxieties about Julie and how she looked and how the guy she left him for looked even better. 

“I never said that. I would never say that.” 

“Maybe not anymore. You’ve changed, Price.”

“And you’re still a giant pain in the ass,” says Kevin. “But I like you anyway.”

“Sure you do,” says Connor, nudging his shoulder with his own. “You know he was hideous, right? Even I wouldn’t touch him with a bargepole.” 

He knows Connor is just being kind, but he appreciates it anyway. 

“Come on,” says Connor. “Let’s go get some ice cream.” 

“It’s December.” 

“So?”

“You know what,” says Kevin. “You’re right. You only live once, and all that.”

“Finally you’re talking some sense,” says Connor. “I’ll even let you bitch the whole way there about how Julie’s nose looked weird, or something.”

“You are an angel and a saint,” Kevin says. 

“Don’t I know it,” says Connor, bumps his hip with his own. It’s such a Connor thing to do. “I’m glad you guys broke up. It means I get to keep you all to myself.” 

There’s a truth to what Connor is saying, even though he’s being characteristically facetious. Kevin is happier being friends with Connor than he was engaged to Julie, and if he had to have one over the other, well. Kevin doesn’t have the skills of self reflection to deal with that, so he doesn’t. He walks hand in hand with Connor to go get ice cream, and forgets all about Julie when Connor launches into a story that Kevin doesn’t pay attention to because he’s too busy studying the animated way Connor moves and speaks. He’d pick Connor McKinley over anybody. It’ll never be a fair fight. 

***

It’s a Friday night, Connor is drunk and he is ridiculous. Kevin gets a text around two am, and then another, and then three missed calls. Kevin finally wakes up at the fourth ring. 

“If you’re not dying I swear I will kill you myself.” 

“I’m drunk,” says Connor, sounding miserable.

“Clearly,” says Kevin. “Where are you?” 

“I don’t know,” mourns Connor. “That’s the problem.” 

“Right,” says Kevin, sitting up straight. “Are you okay?”

“Not really,” says Connor, and then hiccups. “I think I’m gonna throw up.”

“You don’t usually call me over vomit,” says Kevin. He’s used to metaphorically holding back Connor’s hair, and there has been the odd occasion where Connor has metaphorically held his hair back, but it’s never been a cause for concern. It’s just been playfully referred to as being repressed twenty-something ex-Mormons. “Did something happen?”

“ _Everything_ happened,” says Connor. “Can you come get me?” 

“Okay,” says Kevin, because there’s no point even pretending to have an internal battle with himself about whether or not he should cater to Connor’s whims. “What are you near?” 

“The theatre,” Connor says. “I think we walked about two blocks down. I don’t know what direction.” 

“Can’t you just get a cab?”

“With what money? All of my money magically turned into alcohol.” 

“Okay,” says Kevin. “I’m coming.” 

He stays on the phone with Connor the whole time. Kevin doesn’t ask why nobody Connor has gone out with could help, because he already knows the answer. Connor has a lot of acquaintances, and roughly two and a half friends. Connor doesn’t really say much, but Kevin does hear him throw up. Twice. 

Kevin gets a little lost, and then a little bit more lost, and he’s not particularly happy about wandering around Manhattan at two am but he has a drunk damsel in distress to save. 

“I am so lost,” he says down the phone. “And it’s freezing.”

“I know,” says Connor. “I really really really appreciate you, Price. You’re an angel and a darling and every other nice word I can think of.” 

“Not enough compliments for this,” Kevin tells him. “I need more flattery when I come save your ass.”

“It’s a good ass,” says Connor. “It’s worth saving, trust me. I can hear you rolling your eyes, you know, you’ll give yourself a migraine.” 

“Stop being exasperating, then,” says Kevin. “For the sake of my poor eyesight.” 

Connor hums a tune from his show, and Kevin resists the urge to hum it back. Connor doesn’t need to know that he knows the soundtrack off by heart. He always tells Connor he doesn’t even like the dumb show, he’s only going for Connor, so he better appreciate it. But somewhere down the line, Kevin has started liking things just because Connor does. He’s even come around to liking Sleepless in Seattle. 

“Kevin!” Connor says, and he hears it from two different places. “Do a U-turn, I can totally see you. Come save me immediately.” 

Kevin half-runs to Connor, thanking the God he no longer believes in that he didn’t get murdered by a knife-wielding maniac on the way. 

“New York City is a dangerous place, you know,” Connor says when Kevin catches up to him. “You shouldn’t be out alone at night.” 

“I hate you,” says Kevin. “Really and truly.”

“You’re my hero,” says Connor, and he looks a lot like he’s been crying, maybe. His left eye looks a bit purple and Kevin touches it with his thumb. 

“You look hideous,” Kevin says. “Like, really awful.”

“Those are not the words of true love’s first kiss,” Connor says, then winds his arms around Kevin’s torso. His words are muffled by Kevin’s shirt. “You are exactly the person I needed to see right now.”

“Yeah?” says Kevin, feeling pleased. 

“Totally,” says Connor. “You are the most normal person I know. I need normal right now. Everybody I know is a fucking circus.”

“And you’re not?” 

“Fuck off,” Connor says. “Walk me home.”

“So demanding,” Kevin mutters, but he doesn’t think Connor hears him, from the bleary way he blinks slowly at the lights. “What happened?”

“Ran into an ex,” says Connor. “He’s a fucking jerk.” 

Kevin doesn’t ask which ex. Connor has had too many to count, and half of them Kevin doesn’t even know about. He thinks it was probably Steve, if Connor is this riled up about it, but he doesn’t press it. 

“So I had to walk here and pick you up at -” he checks his watch - “ three in the morning?”

“Got in a fight,” Connor says, kicking a can on the sidewalk with more ferocity than necessary. “They kicked me out. Didn’t have any money on me.” 

“Okay,” says Kevin, holding his hands out to placate him. “That’s okay. I don’t really care what happened.”

“This is why you’re totally my favorite,” Connor says, and hugs him from behind, making it difficult to walk. “ _You_ don’t care what I do or don’t do. Or who I do and don’t do.” 

Kevin pulls a face, but Connor can’t see it, so he pinches his hand instead. 

“You’re gross,” says Kevin. 

“You’re a prude,” says Connor. “And I love you for it.” 

Connor is slumped on his back, and Kevin is cold and tired and wants to collapse on his bed and listen to Connor throw up in his toilet. Connor’s slowing them down, so it’s not a particularly difficult decision to lean down and hook his legs through his arms. Connor giggles. 

“You’re giving me a piggyback,” he says. 

“I am,” says Kevin. 

“I’m going to throw up on you,” Connor says. 

“If you do, I’m dropping you on the street and leaving you there.”

“You would never,” says Connor. “I’m too pretty. This city will eat me alive.”

Connor is surprisingly light, and Kevin knows they look ridiculous but he’s finding it hard to care. Connor grips onto his hair for dear life and starts laughing. 

“When did you become fun?” asks Connor, and Kevin wishes he could hit him round the back of the head. 

“Probably around the time you decided to worm your way into my life,” says Kevin. 

“You love it,” says Connor. 

“I do,” laments Kevin, and hoists him up even further. 

“Thanks for being the best friend a boy could ask for,” says Connor, and then kisses the back of Kevin’s head so hard it makes a smacking noise. 

“Right back at you,” says Kevin. 

It takes them a long time to get to Kevin’s apartment, and his back hurts, and Connor kept saying things like _en garde!_ at passing strangers, and Connor is slowly but surely strangling him. He puts him down at the door stop. 

“Aren’t you going to carry me over the threshold?” 

“You have legs,” says Kevin. “Use them.” 

Connor does look a bit wobbly, but he makes it up the stairs by some divine miracle. He collapses face down on Kevin’s couch. 

“My darling,” Connor says. “How I’ve missed you,” and then he kisses it. 

“Yeah, yeah,” says Kevin. “I’ll go get your pajamas. Don’t fall asleep until I get back, okay?” 

“Mhm,” says Connor, but his eyes are already closed. Kevin brings Connor the old t-shirt Connor adopted as his and the bucket they use to throw up in. 

He manages to wrestle Connor into the shirt and tucks him in like a child, brushing a hand over the hair on his forehead for a second. Connor squirms in reply. 

Kevin finds it hard to fall back to sleep, because he can hear Connor moving around, like he always does when Connor is over. Eventually he sighs, and opens the door. He leans against the doorway and watches Connor in the kitchen eating cereal straight from the box with his hand. 

“Connor,” Kevin says, and Connor’s head snaps up like he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t. “Don’t look at me like that, I bought that cereal for you. Are you okay?”

Connor shrugs, then makes a big show of swallowing. 

“Does it matter?”

“It matters to me.”

“That’s very sweet, Kevin Price. You truly are a gentleman.”

Kevin rolls his eyes. He wishes that Connor could be serious for just ten minutes of his life. The facade gets a little old, sometimes, especially when it’s gone three in the morning and Kevin just wants to go to sleep. 

“Stop acting when you aren’t getting paid for it,” Kevin says.

“You’re bitchy tonight,” Connor says. “Since you asked, I’m not okay, no.” 

“Okay,” says Kevin. “Come on, come to bed.”

Connor stares at him. Kevin doesn’t understand why, because this is totally a normal thing to do. This is what friends do. Right?

“Are you,” Connor starts. “Um. Sure, that sounds - good?”

“Good,” says Kevin, and holds a hand out for him. “It’s a big bed, and the couch isn’t comfortable anyway. You deserve to get some sleep.” 

Connor curls up next to him under the covers, placing one hand on Kevin’s chest, then taking it away again. 

“Stop it,” says Kevin, and Connor immediately draws himself back. “You’re being weird. We’re allowed to snuggle, you know. My masculinity isn’t that fragile.”

Kevin touches the purple bruise under Connor’s eye with two fingers. He rolls Connor over so he’s facing away from Kevin, and then he curls himself around him. 

“Oh,” says Connor. “Um.”

“Shut up,” says Kevin. “We are never going to talk about this again.” 

“Okay,” says Connor, wriggling back into Kevin. “This is nice. Cuddle time with Kevin.”

“Cuddles with Connor has a better ring to it,” says Kevin. “Goodnight, Connor.”

“Goodnight, Kevin Price,” Connor says, and Kevin turns off the lamp. He falls asleep long after Connor does, listening to the little snuffling sounds he makes, and thinking about how Connor is the first person Kevin’s touched like this in a long time.

***

It’s New Year’s Eve. It’s the second year Kevin is ringing in without Julie, and he’s feeling particularly morose and grumpy about the whole ordeal. Connor’s manipulated Kevin into getting dressed up and out of the house instead of going to bed at nine pm and pretending it’s just another day by using Arnold-and-Nabulungi against him. 

“They’re going to be so upset if you don’t go,” says Connor. “Come on, they’re your best friends. They’re the closest thing to family you’re gonna get until you start spawning.” 

“You always hit right where it hurts, don’t you?”

“Sorry,” says Connor, but the shit eating grin on his face doesn’t make him look very sorry at all. “Get that stick out of your ass and come have fun with me.” 

“That is generally how our relationship works,” sighs Kevin. “Okay. Sorry to be such a wet blanket all the time.”

“It’s okay,” Connor says. “I’m eagerly awaiting the day you get over it so you don’t look so miserable all of the time. I can’t handle the sad puppy thing much longer.” 

The problem isn’t that Kevin isn’t over it, because he is. He has been for a long time. He would never want her back, not in a million years. He wishes he could put his finger on exactly what the problem is but he doesn’t have the insight to figure it out, and he certainly can’t afford therapy to deal with it. This huge, gaping wound just won’t seem to heal properly because he keeps compulsively picking at the scab. And Kevin hates talking about his downfalls. He’s certainly not going to do it with Connor, at any rate. As much as he loves him, Kevin knows that Connor has a habit of using secrets against you when he’s feeling bitchy. Which, recently, has been more often than not. They clearly both have some issues to deal with, but New Year’s Eve probably isn’t the time to do it. 

“Let’s go,” says Kevin, grabbing his keys off the counter. “Come on, before I change my mind.” 

They walk to the party mostly in silence, but Connor slips his arm into the crook of Kevin’s elbow so his brain doesn’t overanalyze the quiet between them quite as much. As long as he still has Connor’s easy affection to ground him, Kevin doesn’t mind much of anything at all. 

“You came!” Arnold screeches at him when they arrive. “I totally thought you would bail, buddy.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, pal.” 

“I thought you’d bail too,” says Nabulungi, propping her elbow on Arnold’s shoulder. “You haven’t exactly been the picture of good times recently. What’s going with you?”

Kevin shrugs because he doesn’t really know the answer. 

“New Year just kinda bums me out,” he tries to explain. “I hate looking back over the past year and all that stuff.”

“You’ve had a great year,” says Arnold. “Other than you still not getting laid.” 

“Do we always have to bring that up? That’s not exactly helping with the self-reflection thing.”

“Kevin Price, love of my life, you have never been good at self reflection,” Connor says. Kevin glares at him, and the look on Connor’s face makes Kevin think he maybe took it personally. He touches their elbows together in an attempt quell the uneasiness between them. Maybe Kevin is just too wound up. He usually misreads things when he’s having a particularly neurotic day. 

“It’s true,” says Nabulungi. “But we love you anyway.” 

“Exactly,” says Arnold, who unexpectedly gives Kevin a hug that knocks the air out of him. Kevin wheezes and pats him on the back. 

“Thanks guys,” he says, and tries to make it sound like he really means it. “Come eat tiny food and get drunk with me.”

“Already there,” Connor says, beelining for the catering table. Kevin shakes his head and smiles. Nabulungi starts feeding Arnold tiny quiches with her hands and making cooing noises. Connor smirks at them, then at Kevin. 

“Open wide,” he says, and makes airplane noises with a hand full of finger food. Kevin mimes zipping his mouth shut. Connor smushes the food against his mouth anyway and Kevin splutters, indignantly. 

“Oh my God,” Kevin says as he wipes his mouth. “You’re ridiculous. You are the most ridiculous person I know. That was cruel and unusual.” 

“Don’t I know it,” says Connor. “Dance with me?” 

“After you maimed me with cocktail sausages? I don’t think you deserve the honor.”

“Shut up,” says Connor, and pulls him by the wrist. 

“I’m not drunk enough for this,” Kevin says. Usually he’s at least a few shots in before he busts out the dance moves. Connor says he dances like his dad at a wedding. Connor grabs him by the waist and starts dancing anyway. 

“You can stand on my feet, if you like,” says Connor. “It might be less embarrassing for you.”

“You get paid to dance!” 

“Exactly,” Connor says, and attempts to twirl him around but Kevin is a lot larger than Connor is, so he trips over Connor’s feet. “Cheer up, Kevin Price.” 

“I don’t feel like it, Connor McKinley,” says Kevin. 

“You know, this is the one day you’re actually allowed to count down the time. Come on, it’s almost midnight.” 

“Okay,” says Kevin. He has an innate inability to say no to Connor. It’s going to get him into trouble, one day. Connor takes his hand, like he always does, and leads him out the door onto the patio. He checks his watch. “Six minutes until midnight.” 

“What are your new year’s resolutions, Kevin Price?”

It’s a good question. Kevin probably should have put some thought into it before now. 

“This year is going to be the year I get over it,” says Kevin. 

“Excellent,” says Connor, but he doesn’t look quite as excited at the prospect as he would have before. Kevin doesn’t know what’s going on between them, but he doesn’t like it one bit. Maybe it’s just his mind playing tricks on him again, but he could swear Connor looks at him differently than he used to. Spooning him when he was drunk was probably a really bad idea. 

Four minutes until midnight. 

“What’s yours?”

Connor looks at him for an uncomfortably long time. 

“I don’t have any,” he says. “I’m happy just the way I am.” 

Kevin looks at him, really looks at him, and doesn’t like the way Connor’s mouth turns down when he says it. 

“Liar,” he says. “Mormon’s can’t lie.”

“Sort of Mormon,” says Connor, predictably, although he looks a little distracted. He watches Connor watch the handsome waiter and rolls his eyes. There’s a churning sensation in his stomach and he feels somewhat nauseous. 

“Two minutes,” Kevin says, bringing Connor’s attention back to him. He wishes he didn’t, because he hates the way Connor looks at him. His eyes are a little desperate, and Kevin doesn’t know what it is that Connor wants but he knows in that moment that he would give Connor McKinley the world if he could. 

Thirty seconds. 

Kevin says, “I wouldn’t want to ring in the New Year with anyone but you.” 

Connor smiles like he might actually mean it. 

“You too, Kevin Price.”

Ten, nine. 

Kevin’s breath hitches in his throat. He’s pretty certain he knows what’s about to happen. His eyes flicker down to Connor’s lips, involuntarily and embarrassingly. 

Three, two, one. 

“Happy New Year, Connor,” he says. 

“Yeah,” Connor murmurs. “You too.” 

Kevin watches Connor’s face, waiting for Connor to just _lean forward already_ , because if they’re going to do this he wants to get it over with, and oh God, Connor is coming closer - 

Connor kisses him on the cheek, both hands cupping his jaw, catching the corner of his mouth just a little. Kevin deflates. It would have been a terrible idea, anyway. He pulls Connor in for a hug, and hooks his chin over Connor’s shoulder. Connor hugs back, fiercely, and squeezes. Connor’s mouth brushes over the shell of Kevin’s ear. 

At any rate, he’s glad he’s started the New Year how he expects it to continue: hanging onto Connor’s every word, wanting Connor’s constant attention, and feeling confused about the feeling that stirs in his gut when he watches Connor wander off to find the waiter. 

 

***

They’re helping Arnold and Nabulungi move into their new apartment when all Hell breaks loose. And it’s over such a stupid thing, too. 

“That is the worst piece of furniture I’ve ever seen,” says Nabulungi, wrinkling her nose. It’s a coffee table in the shape of Darth Vader’s head. It’s really something. 

“It’s my favorite,” says Arnold. “I want to have at least one thing in this apartment that’s mine.” 

“I’m letting you keep your Lord of the Rings bedsheets,” says Nabulungi, looking exasperated. Arnold brings out that emotion in people a lot. “Don’t say I never did anything for you.” 

Arnold looks imploringly at Kevin. 

“Let’s see what Kevin and Connor think. Kevin, old pal of mine?”

Kevin startles. He does not want any part of this. 

“Um,” says Kevin. “It’s a conversation starter, that’s for sure.” 

“See!” says Arnold. “Kevin likes it.”

“I never said that,” Kevin mutters, but only Connor must hear because he can see him smirking.

“Connor?” 

Connor shakes his head, and wrinkles his nose. 

“I’m sorry, but it really is awful, Arnold.” 

“Traitor,” says Arnold, glaring at him. Kevin is feeling wound up and more and more irritated by the second. This is the stupidest argument he’s ever heard and it reminds him so much of Julie that his fingertips burn with the need to punch something. 

“You’re trying to make this your apartment and not our apartment,” Arnold says to Nabulungi, whose eyes turn steely and harsh. Arnold, bless him, wavers but doesn’t back down. 

“Your taste is awful,” says Nabulungi. “I love you, but sometimes you need to grow up a little.” 

Kevin has had enough of this. He snaps. 

“This is how it starts, you know. This is just like me and Julie,” says Kevin. “After we broke up. All couples are the same. And do you know want to know what I think? I think both of you should write your names in each of your books now so you don’t have to argue over the phone for four hours about it. Actually, you should put your names on everything, because one day you’re going to be screaming at each other over whose plates are whose and Nabulungi is probably going to claim those Lord of the Rings bedsheets just to be petty and Arnold is going to lump this fucking awful coffee table on Nabulungi because he knows it’ll piss her off. And one day in a city of eight million people you’re going to bump into each other and end up falling on your ass ice skating in front of _Daniel._ ”

The room is totally silent. Kevin’s chest heaves. 

“I thought you liked the coffee table,” is all Arnold has to say. 

“I was being nice!”

And then Kevin storms out. He slams the door but it doesn’t quite satisfy him, so he kicks the steps, too, then winces at the pain in his toes. Connor follows him outside not long after. 

“I know, I know,” he tells him. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Probably not, no,” says Connor, rocking back on his heels with his hands in his pockets. “Are you okay?”

“Not really,” says Kevin. “But I’m never okay.”

“You know,” Connor says, keeping his distance and eyeing him warily. “You’re going to have to find a way not to express every single emotion that you have.”

“Fuck you,” says Kevin, instinctively. Connor winces, and takes a step back. “You’re one to talk, Mr. I have to call Kevin in the middle of the night because I got into a fight with one of my many, many exes again because I have an inability to keep it in my pants.”

“No, Kevin, fuck _you_ ,” says Connor. “Just because you‘re lonely and wound up all the time doesn’t mean you get to treat people like shit because they have something that you want.” 

“You know what Connor, you’re going to have to move to New Jersey because you’ve slept with everyone in New York. Just because I want it to mean something, unlike you, doesn’t mean you get to make bitchy comments about my sex life. And I certainly don’t need your pity.” 

“Okay,” says Connor, holding his hands up. “Are you finished?” 

“Yes,” says Kevin.

“Okay,” says Connor. “I’m sorry.” 

And the thing is, he really does look sorry. Kevin feels the immediate guilt he always feels after he’s exploded on somebody, and feels even guiltier because it’s Connor.

“I’m sorry, too.” 

“Good,” says Connor, and pulls him in for a hug. “I hate it when we’re mad at each other.”

Kevin wishes they could both go back in time and stop this argument before it started. He’s embarrassed, he’s tired. He wants to hold Connor until the dull ache in his chest goes away. He hated the little frown in between Connor’s eyebrows and the hurt look on his face that must have been mirrored on his. Maybe they needed to have this argument, but not now, not when Kevin is still so confused about what’s going on between them and what happened to get them to this point. He squeezes Connor back. 

“Um,” says Arnold, dragging out the Darth Vader coffee table. “Don’t say a word.” 

Kevin pulls back and smiles stupidly at Connor, who smiles stupidly back. 

“Get a room,” says Nabulungi in the doorway. “And Kevin, just so you know? I am never, ever going to want that Darth Vader coffee table.” 

 

***

“Let’s watch a movie,” says Connor, lounging on Kevin’s couch like he always does. 

“We’ve seen all of my movies,” says Kevin. “At least twice.” 

“So?” 

“You have a valid point,” says Kevin. “Okay, so. Big?” 

“No, way too creepy.” 

“You’re right, you’re right,” says Kevin. “You’re always right. Clueless?”

“Even creepier,” says Connor, and pulls a face like he might throw up. “Naba says she loves that movie and won’t listen to me when I tell her that’s her step-brother. Her step-brother, Kevin! That’s next levels of creepy.” 

“That’s not worse than Big,” Kevin says, rifling through his collection (which is, of course, alphabetized). “He’s literally a child.” 

“Thirteen Going on Thirty,” Connor says, wrinkling his nose in that way that he does. “That’s a disturbing trend, isn’t it?” 

“No shit,” says Kevin. “Romantic comedies are not the benchmark for how to live your life successfully.” 

“They’re cute and fun, though,” says Connor. “I always aspire for my life to be cute and fun.” 

“Yeah but not like, Love Actually cute and fun,” says Kevin. 

“Say no more,” Connor says, waving his hand. “Never Been Kissed?”

“Also incredibly creepy,” Kevin sighs. “He thinks she’s a high school student. I’m seeing a trend, here.” 

“Put Pretty in Pink on, then,” says Connor. “They’re all age appropriate.”

“You just want to start a fight,” Kevin says, pointing his finger at him. Connor puts his hands up in a don’t shoot! kind of way. “She’s the Man?” 

“I fucking love that movie,” says Connor. “But we should totally watch Legally Blonde. It just came to me in a moment of clarity.” 

“Sure thing,” says Kevin, trying to keep the smile off his face. Everything was getting weird and intense between them and Kevin felt lost around Connor, like he wasn’t quite sure what to say or what to do, but this is nice. This is familiar, and Kevin wants to hold onto it as long as he can. 

“I wish life really was like a romantic movie,” Connor sighs, stealing all of the blanket before Kevin can sit down. “They make it look so easy. I wish somebody would just, I don’t know, sweep me off my feet in a big grand romantic gesture.”

“It’s downhill from there though, isn’t it? I used to have a friend who told me to never take Julie to the airport because eventually one day I wouldn’t take her to the airport, and he said I’d never want to be in a situation where Julie would say, why do you never take me to the airport anymore?”

“That is the most pessimistic thing you’ve ever said,” Connor says, and nudges Kevin’s thigh with his toes when he sits down. “And Kevin, light of my life, I hate to break this to you, but you and Julie broke up.” 

“No,” says Kevin, as sarcastically as possible, and clutches his heart. “When?” 

Connor looks at him in a way that Kevin can’t place, but makes him feel hot and self-conscious. Nobody has ever looked at him like that before, and Kevin doesn’t know what it means, but he’s pretty certain it’s a good thing, if the little smile that’s quirking at the corners of Connor’s mouth is anything to go by. 

“Kevin Price,” Connor says, and then he doesn’t say anything else. He just smiles. 

“Connor McKinley,” says Kevin, “You are my favorite person in the whole world, did you know that?” 

“I had no idea,” Connor says, and he shuffles closer to Kevin. “Shut up and watch the movie.” 

Kevin does. He plays with the ends of Connor’s hair with his fingertips and thinks about just how lucky he is, to have Arnold and Nabulungi and Connor. He thinks about teenage Kevin Price, still as Mormon as a Mormon can be, sitting alone at lunch because nobody liked him, ignoring everybody who wasn’t in the Church, thinking that his mission would be the only good thing in his life. But it’s the little things that are important, like how Arnold looks at Nabulungi and walking in the park in the morning and coffee and how Connor McKinley looks when he’s half asleep in Kevin’s lap, eyes struggling to stay open. 

***

It takes Kevin a surprising three hours into Arnold’s wedding reception before he thinks about Julie. There's just been so much to do, so many people to smile at, and an Arnold to run around after making sure he doesn't get barbecue sauce all down his very expensive rented tuxedo. When he finally remembers, it's because Arnold’s dad brings her up. 

“Bet this is hard for you,” he says to Kevin at the buffet table. Kevin finds this incredibly rude. It's not to say that Kevin isn't aware of the considerable difference in their appearances, but that doesn't mean that Kevin should be put out that Arnold got married before him. He's not some jilted older sister on the wrong side of thirty with a biological clock ticking. “You know, because of your engagement.” 

“Oh,” says Kevin. “I didn't even think about that.”

“That's very healthy of you,” says Arnold’s Dad. “Arnold usually calls you emotionally unintelligent.” 

“Lovely,” says Kevin. “He's a charming boy, isn't he?” 

“You've been good for him,” he says. “If he hadn't met you, he'd still have no friends and be lying about everything all the time. I never got to thank you for being such a good friend to him.” 

“Oh,” says Kevin. “Um. You're welcome?” 

He's never thought of their relationship like that. He mostly remembers being mean to Arnold until he realized how awesome he is. 

“And you introduced them,” he says, nodding towards Arnold and Nabulungi on the dance floor. They’re dancing cheek to cheek and Kevin feels like he might cry for the third time that day. “She’s a firecracker, isn’t she?”

Arnold’s dad claps him on the back. She certainly is. Arnold is too, in his own way. They’re perfect for each other, even if Nabulungi doesn’t like Star Wars. 

Kevin makes idle chat with several of Arnold’s family members. They all gaze at him with what looks suspiciously like adoration and Kevin doesn’t know how to handle it. He hasn’t experienced familial affection in a very long time. He dodges the question ‘when is it your turn?’ for half an hour before he slinks into a plastic chair next to Connor and sighs. Connor is holding a bottle of beer and wordlessly hands it over to Kevin. 

“Hi,” says Kevin, and takes a longer swig than strictly necessary. 

“Hello handsome,” says Connor, and stretches over the back of the chair like a cat. “Having fun?”

“I wish,” Kevin says mournfully. “If one more person looks at me pityingly because I’m not the one getting married I’m going to brain myself on a cocktail stick.” 

“You’d make a good appetizer,” Connor says. “Aren’t they adorable?”

“Disgustingly so,” says Kevin, and they watch Nabulungi kiss Arnold until he turns red all over. 

“Thinking about Julie?” 

“I wasn’t, actually,” says Kevin, and Connor raises his eyebrows. “Until everybody felt the need to bring her up.” 

“Sorry,” says Connor. “I shouldn’t have assumed.” 

“Probably not,” says Kevin. “But I don’t blame you. I was miserable about it for long enough.” 

“And you’re not anymore?”

“No,” says Kevin. “I don’t think I have been for a while, actually.” 

“That’s good news,” says Connor, who smiles at him, big and wide and toothy. “I was going to hold off on the jokes about you catching the bouquet, as well.”

“No need,” says Kevin. Connor yawns in an exaggerated fashion and puts his arm around Kevin’s shoulders. “You look nice, today. Who knew we could just put you in a suit and you’d look so good?” 

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” says Connor, and then gives Kevin a wet kiss on the cheek. Kevin scrubs it off with his sleeve and glares at him out of the corner of his eye. “You look sharp in a tie. You’d have made a good Elder.” 

“Other than the coffee and the swearing and the general sinfulness of my entire being,” says Kevin. “You’d have made a weird Elder. But not any weirder than Arnold would have.” 

“I always forget he was a Mormon,” Connor says. “You’re right, though. I’m way too gay for district leader.” 

Kevin snorts. 

“You’re as gay as the day is long. Arnold is a compulsive liar,” says Kevin. “And I’m an egotist. The only one of us who’d have been any good at it is Nabulungi.” 

“Probably,” says Connor. “She’s very persuasive. She could just threaten to knock your teeth out and you’d be getting baptized before you know it.” 

“She’s sweeter than that,” says Kevin. “Sweet enough to put up with Arnold, at any rate.”

“Don’t let her hear you say that,” says Connor.

They stay silent for a little while. Kevin rests his cheek on the top of Connor’s head and steadfastly ignores the look Arnold’s mother is giving him. She would marry Kevin herself if she could. Kevin has been avoiding her well-meaning kisses all day. 

“Why are you hanging out with me and not flirting with any of the many, many bachelors here, anyway?”

“Oh,” says Connor. “I don’t know. I don’t really feel like it.”

“Connor McKinley doesn’t feel like going home with a handsome boy?” says Kevin, feigning a surprised gasp. “Hell will freeze over, you know.” 

“Probably,” says Connor who, now Kevin looks at properly, seems a little bit glum. “I’m getting kind of bored of it, actually. I don’t know. I don’t even really know why I’m telling you this. But I mean, look at Arnold and Nabulungi. I want that. I don’t want to just have sex with some guy who’s just going to cause drama. I want to go on a date and like, be in love, I guess.” 

“Yeah,” says Kevin. “Me too.”

“I know you do,” says Connor. “You’ve been whining about it for two years.” 

“Rude,” says Kevin. Connor disentangles himself from Kevin. “Come on, let’s dance. You’re drunk, it’s a wedding. It’s the proper thing to do.” 

“I think you’ll find that you’re the drunk one,” says Connor, but lets Kevin pull him up anyway. 

Arnold cheers when Kevin comes over and gives Kevin a hug that knocks all the breath out of him. Nabulungi has lost a lot of the hard edges of her face because she can’t stop smiling and she tells Kevin that he looks fantastic and Kevin gives her a look like _have you seen yourself you gorgeous creature_ , and then she asks him to dance. 

“Congratulations Naba,” he tells her. 

“Thank you,” she says. “You know, for setting us up and everything. I’m really glad you came into my life.” 

“Likewise,” says Kevin, and gives her a small smile. She grins back. Kevin watches Connor dance with Arnold over her shoulder and laughs at the terrified expression on Arnold’s face as he tries to keep up with him. 

“You know,” Nabulungi says. “One day we’re going to need to talk about Connor.” 

“Why?” says Kevin, even though he’s pretty certain he knows the answer to the question.

“Because you’re in love with each other, idiot,” she says, and spins them around. He can tell she’s watching Connor too from the protective look in her eye. “But no big declarations of love today, please. This is my day.”

“You’re crazy,” Kevin says. “And I would never.”

“Yes you would,” says Nabulungi. “You’re the most dramatic person I know, and I spend a hell of a lot of time with the world’s biggest drama queen.” 

“I’m not in love with him,” says Kevin. 

“Whatever you say.”

“I’m not,” Kevin emphasizes. “He’s my best friend.”

“Lots of people are in love with their best friends,” says Nabulungi, who twirls them again. “We’re going to talk about this later, whether you like it or not, Kevin Price.” 

It sounds a lot like a threat. Kevin gulps. 

“I don’t know why you’d want to talk about it with me and not Connor, at any rate. I’m emotionally stunted, remember?”

“That might work on everyone else,” she says. “But not me. I see right through you.” 

“Whatever,” says Kevin, because he’s so _bored_ of this conversation. He’s been avoiding comments about them making a cute couple all day. “How does it feel to be married, Mrs Cunningham?”

“Hatimbi-Cunningham, thank you very much,” she says. “Mrs Nabulungi Hatimbi-Cunningham.”

“Bless you,” says Kevin, and laughs when she hits him. 

“It feels wonderful,” she says. “It feels really, really good.” 

“I’m glad,” says Kevin, and is surprised to find he’s not even all that jealous. He’s just happy. “You two are so cute it makes me wanna throw up.” 

“Not on this dress,” says Nabulungi. “I will kill you with my bare hands.” 

Kevin just smiles at her, because he can’t stop himself from smiling at everyone today, and startles when somebody taps on his shoulder. 

“May I?” says Connor, and Kevin does _not_ blush. 

“Don’t say a word,” he says to Nabulungi, who just laughs at him. 

Connor pulls him along by the hand and puts his hand on Kevin’s waist. Their faces are very close, Kevin thinks idly. 

“What was that about?”

“Oh, nothing,” says Kevin. “Nabulungi is just a menace wrapped up in a pretty dress.” 

Kevin leads, and Connor doesn’t bitch about it, for once. 

“You’re getting better at this, you know,” says Connor. “You owe me for all the free dancing lessons.” 

“I’ll pay you in my everlasting love,” says Kevin. 

“Good enough for me,” says Connor. 

Kevin hums along to the song while Connor smiles at him like an idiot. He can’t remember the last time he was this happy. It’s a nice feeling. His best friends are married, and his other best friend is whispering wicked things about what everyone is wearing in his ear. He’s surrounded by the closest things to family he’s ever gonna get and he loves them all so much he feels like his heart is about to burst out of his chest at any moment. Talk about self-improvement. 

 

***

Connor shows up at his door at nine thirty p.m. on a Saturday night. He looks like he’s been punched in the face because his eyes are all swollen and his lips are puffy. 

“Hi,” says Kevin, dumbly. 

“Hello,” Connor says back. “Can I come in?”

Connor has never asked to be invited inside before; he usually barges in unannounced and scares the shit out of him when Kevin comes home to find the door wide open and Connor having a nap on his couch in the dark. He has a key. Alarm bells are ringing in Kevin’s head. 

He stands aside wordlessly and watches Connor walk in and stand uncomfortably in the middle of the room. Kevin strides over to where he is and puts his hand on Connor’s shoulder. 

“Connor,” he says. “What happened?”

Connor shakes his head once, twice. Kevin removes his hand and hovers it over Connor’s back, afraid to touch him. Connor looks like a wound up novelty clock, his insides about to burst any second. His body is tense.

“Steve,” is all he says, and shrugs. “Everything. I don’t feels so good.” 

He moves over to the couch and beckons Kevin to follow. 

“Have you been drinking?”

“Only always,” he says. “I’m not going to throw up, don’t worry.”

“I wasn’t,” says Kevin. “I’m only worried about you.”

Connor snorts and it sounds all snotty and gross. 

“There’s only so many times you can say you’re fine when you’re not, you know?”

Kevin does know. He’s painfully aware. 

And then Connor is _crying_ , and Kevin feels incredibly helpless. For all of Connor’s airs and graces, deep down Kevin is the dramatic one. Connor cries when he sees a stray dog and when those commercials come on TV about kids with cancer or whatever, but Kevin is over-emotional about things that matter. The difference is nothing matters to Connor McKinley. He doesn’t linger around long enough to care. 

“Um,” says Kevin, and sits down next to him. He puts an arm around his shaking shoulders. What does Connor do for him in this situation? Connor usually brightens the room just by being in it, effortlessly making Kevin laugh and making him feel better before he even realizes it. Kevin isn’t that kind of person. He doesn’t have Connor’s energy, and somewhere, somehow, has come to depend on that energy to balance him out. Now everything's off kilter, and it’s Connor’s fault, and Kevin doesn’t know what to do or how to handle him like this. He’s used to reining him in, not picking him up. 

“Stop being emotionally stunted and hug me,” says Connor, and there it is, a little sliver of the sunshine that is Connor McKinley parting through his dark stormy clouds. Kevin opens his arms and Connor wraps himself up in them greedily. He smells like an entire liquor store set on fire and his nose is all snotty. Kevin knows, has always known, probably from that very first day in that sweltering hot car, that Connor carries around inside him a darkness of hatred of himself and everyone around him. 

Kevin, as always, says before he thinks.

“You’re perfect,” he says. “You are perfect just the way you are, Connor McKinley.” 

“Yeah?” says Connor, a little shakily. 

“Yeah,” says Kevin, and then Connor kisses him. 

It’s not how Kevin would have pictured their first kiss (and since when was he ever thinking about a first kiss in the first place?). It’s certainly wetter than most kisses, for one, what with all the crying. Connor tastes slightly revolting, like the smell of a college party but in his mouth, and he guesses if he _had_ to imagine it, it would probably involve them dissolving into a fit of giggles, but instead it’s - quiet, and nice. Connor’s lips are chapped but the kiss still manages to feel soft. Kevin’s hands are too warm and he puts them on Connor’s cheeks, then pulls away. 

“You’re drunk,” says Kevin. 

“I am,” says Connor, and kisses him again. Then he slips him the tongue and oh, Kevin is so fucked. This is such a bad idea. He wouldn’t even be able to list all the reasons this is a bad idea on all of his fingers and toes. Kevin never indulges in bad ideas. He’s allergic to taking risks. He is the picture of stability. “So what?”

He thinks maybe the universe owes him this one, and he kisses Connor back. 

“You know people think we’re sleeping together,” Kevin says. 

“Yeah,” says Connor, looking pink, his eyes glazed over. “So let’s give them something to talk about.”

It spirals from there. Well, it really starts spiralling when Connor’s wandering hands end up under Kevin’s shirt. 

“Have you still never had great sex?” Connor murmurs against Kevin’s lips. Kevin shakes his head, dumbly, finding it hard to speak when he’s trying to get Connor to do that thing with his tongue again. This feels too easy. Connor is too easy. 

“Cool,” says Connor. “I’ll show you.” 

Kevin’s inner monologue is saying to him over and over again that this is a bad idea, that Connor is his best friend, that this is going to ruin everything. That Connor is drunk and he’s taking advantage. That this probably means a lot more to Kevin than it does to Connor. He tries to pull away again but Connor makes a sad, whimpering noise and Kevin gives up, gives in, like he always does when Connor wants something. 

Connor starts to unbutton Kevin’s shirt. 

It’s just that it’s been so long, and he hasn’t, since, and, and. He could try to justify this in his head over and over again but what’s the point, it’s a horrible, terrible idea and nothing either of them could say would make this any better, so they don’t say anything at all. Kevin just kisses him, and kisses him some more, and cradles the back of Connor’s head with his hands so he doesn’t pull away, doesn’t leave Kevin when he’s vulnerable like this. 

Kevin really has never had great sex, and Connor kisses him like he knows exactly what he’s doing. He wants Connor all to himself, and probably has for a very long time. It’s not fair that they’re on an uneven playing field, wishes he could be better at this. This probably won’t be great sex for Connor. The odds are against Kevin. He bites Connor’s lip as hard as he can and Connor makes a sound that Kevin wants to hear over and over again. He already knows he can’t.

Like he said. This is a terrible idea. 

Connor starts kissing his neck, then bites hard enough to leave a mark, and Kevin comes undone. He gives in to Connor’s whims, like he always does, let’s him drag Kevin down under his murky depths and drown him there. Kevin gets to see the one part of Connor that he’s never been allowed to see before, and Kevin is going to make the most of it. 

***

When he wakes up the next morning, Connor is gone. 

Kevin looks for him everywhere in the apartment, checks his phone for messages twice, and paces around the room for around forty five minutes before he calls him. Connor doesn’t answer. Kevin throws his phone at the wall and swears, immediately regrets it and checks he hasn’t broken it. 

Kevin just had the best sex of his life and it’s ruined everything. He should have listened to the little voice in his brain that was telling him not to think with his dick. 

He texts Connor. _I made a mistake_ , is all he can bring himself to say. He’s about to turn his phone off and ignore it for the rest of the day so he can hide under a blanket and eat his sorrows, but Connor replies back straight away. He sits there and stares at it for a good two or three minutes, preparing himself for whatever Connor has to say to him. What a fucking idiot he is.

 _Me too_ , is all the text says. Connor has nothing else to say to him. For the first time since they met, Kevin has nothing to say to Connor either. His fingers are restless and he tries to write out a reply but no words come to him. 

So he showers. He brushes his teeth, flosses. Then he punches his reflection. He washes the blood of his hand in the sink, then washes his face. He bandages his hand, silently, wishing it was Connor’s hands on his, wishing Connor could come over and make Kevin feel better like he always does. 

He’ll take the seven years bad luck. He deserves it. 

***

Arnold takes him out for breakfast, because Arnold is an angel upon this Earth and the only true friend Kevin has in this world. Kevin has been in his pajamas for days on end and hasn’t left the house other than to go to work in weeks. His social life went with Connor, and he didn’t realize just quite how lonely he would be without him. It feels a lot like Julie leaving him all over again. 

“You’re an idiot,” Arnold says. 

“Tell me something I don’t know,” says Kevin. 

“Like, the biggest idiot in the world. There’s nobody who can even compare to your level of idiocy.”

“Please,” says Kevin, staring at his omelet so he doesn’t have to look Arnold in the eye. “You’re preaching to the choir.” 

Kevin pushes his eggs around on the plate. He knows, and people telling him over and over again isn’t helping anything. 

“Listen,” says Arnold. 

“No,” says Kevin. “Can we talk about something that isn’t related to Connor McKinley? Is that too much to ask for?”

“Well, okay then. What do you want to talk about?”

Kevin is quiet for a moment, but it doesn’t last long. 

“Okay, okay. Connor. What do you want to know?”

“Everything,” says Arnold. “My love life is perfectly healthy, I need to live vicariously through the absolute wreck that is yours.”

“Thank for that, pal,” Kevin says. “Um. I don’t know where to start. I gather Nabulungi has filled you in on Connor’s side of things.”

“Obviously,” says Arnold. “You two are like a reality TV show. Wait, no, better, because I get to laugh at you.”

“Your sympathy is overwhelming,” says Kevin. “Truly.”

“So you had sex, then. Tell me all the gritty details. Is he good in bed?”

Kevin chokes on a mushroom. 

“Arnold,” he says. “Please don’t make me do this while we’re eating.”

“No, seriously, I have to know. He must be good, he’s had a lot of practice.”

“That’s kind of the problem,” says Kevin. “I haven’t.”

“Oh my God, did you suck? Is that what happened?”

“No,” says Kevin, emphatically. “Well, I don’t know. I didn’t exactly get the chance to compare notes.” 

Kevin wishes he knew, he really does. From where he was standing it seemed to go swimmingly. He’s not used to not knowing what Connor thinks about everything. He has no idea what’s been running through his head. 

“He’s really upset, you know,” says Arnold. 

“I gathered as much when he missed the twenty ninth call in a row.” 

“He likes you,” Arnold says. “Like, _like_ likes you. God knows why, you’re an absolute mess.”

Kevin isn’t used to being messy. Kevin Price has clean clothes and his hair always looks perfect and he’s punctual to a fault. He has glowing performance reviews and never misses an appointment. He goes to the gym, and he doesn’t even skip meals. But Kevin has been imperfect for a while, long before Connor left, and he needs Connor to fix him. Kevin just doesn’t know how to get him to even talk to him, save for barging down his door and demanding Connor to listen to the monologue he’s rehearsed over and over again in his head about how sorry he is.

“What, and he isn’t?”

“You have a point,” says Arnold. “Let no one ever say you are completely emotionally illiterate.” 

“I am,” says Kevin, miserably. “I didn’t even realize I had feelings for him.”

“Are you serious?”

“I pretty much didn’t realize right up until he gave me a hickey,” Kevin says, and pulls down his collar to show Arnold the fading bruise. “Or maybe when he took my shirt off, it’s hard to pinpoint the exact moment.” 

Arnold looks at him in that sad, pitying way everybody did after Julie left. 

“So you screwed up,” says Arnold. “You aren’t the first person in the world to screw up, you know. It’s not like this is the end of the world.”

“Feels like it,” Kevin mutters, petulantly. “He’s acting like it is.”

“He is,” says Arnold. “But he’s always had a flair for dramatics, you know this already.” 

“He’s not playing fair,” says Kevin. “I’m the one who woke up to an empty bed, you know.”

“I know,” says Arnold. “Naba told me. You’re both in the wrong.”

“Then why am I the one who has to make all this effort to get him to forgive me, then?”

“Because this is real life,” says Arnold. “And sometimes you have to cut your losses. Plus, you fucked up more than he did. Ball’s in his court. He’ll talk to you when he’s ready to talk.” 

Kevin looks gloomily at his sad, deflated omelet that he’s turned into mush. It looks how he feels. 

“I miss him,” says Kevin, and feels pathetic. 

“I know you do, buddy,” says Arnold. “I can’t believe you didn’t know you’re totally head over heels for him. Maybe lead with that.” 

“Just because you have the world’s most perfect relationship doesn’t mean you know everything,” says Kevin. “What if he doesn’t feel the same?” 

“He does,” says Arnold. “Obviously.”

“But how do you know that?”

“Because he looks at you like he wants to eat you,” says Arnold. “Like you’re his favorite meal and he’s starving.” 

“That’s oddly poetic of you, buddy,” says Kevin. “If a little weird.”

“That’s me,” says Arnold, and grins. “Poetic and a little weird.” 

“You’re a treasure,” says Kevin. “I’m glad you’re my best friend.”

“You too,” says Arnold. “Idiot.” 

“I wish people would stop calling me that. I’m starting to think it’s my name.” 

“Kevin Oblivious Idiot Price,” says Arnold. “Sounds about right, if you ask me.”

“Nobody asked you,” Kevin says. “Do you think everything will be okay?”

“Of course it will,” says Arnold. “You’re an idiot, but you’re still Kevin Price. And you can do anything.” 

Kevin smiles, involuntarily. When he was younger, he had this idea in his head that he could change the world, that he was destined to do something incredible. And maybe the idea of what the incredible thing would be has changed, but he still believes, deep down, that there’s something he was put on this Earth to do. And maybe it’s something as mundane as helping little old ladies cross the street, or the kids at work, and maybe it’s something that’s a lot like being in love with Connor McKinley. He’s going to fix this. He just is. 

***

Kevin calls Connor almost every day for three weeks. He leaves eleven voicemails, each more desperate than the last. He doesn’t stop until Nabulungi tells him to. 

“You’re a jerk,” she says, turning up at his apartment at seven thirty am. Kevin is awake, because Kevin hasn’t slept. He keeps wondering if Connor hasn’t been sleeping, either. Then his brain makes him picture all the people Connor might have _slept_ with since Kevin. It makes Kevin want to punch his mirror all over again. 

“I know,” says Kevin. “Trust me, I know.” 

She barges in and starts making herself a coffee. She pulls out two mugs, so Kevin figures she can’t be that mad at him. 

“A mistake,” she says. “You told him it was a mistake.” 

“I did,” says Kevin. “Because it was.”

“You’re a fucking moron,” she says again. “Like, there are not enough synonyms of shitty to describe you right now.” 

“Look, I get it. I shouldn’t have slept with him, I shouldn’t have taken advantage, but I did and now I have to deal with it.”

“And dealing with it means stalking him?”

“I am not stalking him,” says Kevin, even though he kind of is. “I just miss him, that’s all.”

“Well, you should have thought about that before you called him a mistake. Jesus Christ, Kevin.” 

She slams his coffee down on the counter, spilling some of it. Kevin winces and has to physically restrain himself from cleaning it up. It’s not the time to be the neurotic mess he is. 

“I didn’t call him a mistake,” he says. “I said sleeping with him was a mistake. He’s my best friend, Naba. Tell me how I get him back.” 

“You go back in time and not break up with him over text?” 

“What?” says Kevin, because, well, what?

“You broke up with him over text,” she says, slowly, like he doesn’t speak English very well. “That is the worst way to break up with anybody, you, you - inconsiderate dick.”

“I didn’t break up with him,” says Kevin. “We weren’t together.”

“You are the most oblivious person on God’s green Earth.” 

“You’ve got it all wrong,” says Kevin. “I’m just a notch in Connor’s bedpost, okay? I get it. He’s probably slept with half of Manhattan since then.”

“Kevin,” says Nabulungi. “You’ve been dating for _months_.”

“We really haven’t,” says Kevin. “How many times do I have to tell people we aren’t a couple?”

“Well, you had sex. That’s pretty indicative of a relationship, you know that, right? Surely you aren’t that stupid?” 

“Shouldn’t you be having this conversation with Connor? Because from where I’m standing sex doesn’t seem to mean much of anything at all to him.”

“It does when it’s with you.”

“Connor goes through people like fucking tissues, Naba. You’ve been friends with him longer than I have. Surely you’ve figured that out by now.” 

“I cannot believe I have to spell this out for you,” says Nabulungi. “You owe me for emotional labor. Connor has sex with a lot of people he doesn’t know the names of. He has sex with somebody he sees every day, who loves him, you don’t think that might mean something a little different?” 

“Oh,” says Kevin. 

“Yeah,” says Naba. “You fucking dumbass.” 

Maybe Kevin did make a mistake, he was just wrong about which one. 

“I didn’t think he actually wanted to,” says Kevin. “I thought he was angry because I made him do something he didn’t want to do while he was drunk and upset.”

Nabulungi gives him the most pitying expression imaginable. 

“Are you serious?”

“Deadly,” says Kevin, and gulps down his coffee. It burns his tongue and the back of his throat. “I’m a fucking idiot.” 

“You got that right,” says Nabulungi, but she looks less angry. Kevin is tired and sad and wants her to give him a hug and tell him it’ll be alright, but she won’t, because she’s Nabulungi and she’s never been that openly affectionate with Kevin. Maybe she would have, one day, but Kevin has lost his friends in a break up. Again. “I’ll try to get him to talk to you. You look like the saddest puppy I’ve ever seen, and Connor always gives up when you look at him like that. He’s talked about it. Extensively.” 

“Really?”

“Really,” she says. “He’s been in love with you for a long time, Kevin Price. The pair of you are ridiculous. I don’t even think he’s realized it yet.” 

“That we’re ridiculous?”

“That he’s in love with you,” she says. “God knows why, though.”

“Thank you,” says Kevin. “That really helps my self-esteem, which is clearly where this entire mess started.” 

“It’s not all about you, you know,” she says. 

“I’ve been hearing that a lot lately.”

“I’m shocked,” she says. “You better do something big and ridiculous to make it up to him. You guys need to sort your shit out so I don’t have to sort it out for you.”

“Okay,” says Kevin. “I’ll try. I’ll think of something.”

Her eyes are soft, and analytical, and she looks him up and down. 

“I know you’re not just a pretty face,” she says. “Connor couldn’t do much better than you, and he deserves the world.” 

Kevin thinks there’s a compliment in there, but he doesn’t have it in himself to take pride in it. She sips her coffee, and raises her eyebrows when he doesn’t reply. 

“Do you think he’ll ever talk to me again?”

“I think if you just want to be friends,” she says. “Then no, he won’t.”

“I want to be more than friends,” says Kevin. “I really, really do. I think I have for a while. I don’t know. I don’t understand anything about myself anymore.” 

“Did you ever?” says Nabulungi, shrewdly. “I’ll try to, I don’t know. Nudge him in your direction. Make less bitchy comments about what a dick you are.” 

“Thank you,” says Kevin. He’s never felt this miserable before. Not even when Julie broke up with him. Oh, God. He should have seen this coming a mile off. What is wrong with him? Why will he never willingly pull his head out of his ass? 

“Everything will be okay,” says Nabulungi. 

Kevin doesn’t believe her, but he’s going to try his best anyway. It’s what he does. He’s never backed down from a challenge, and Kevin Price can do anything he sets his mind to. It’s the universal truth of his world. 

***

Kevin gets a text in the middle of the night and the screen lighting up wakes him. He sees that it’s from Connor and blinks two, three, four times, because that can’t be right. Can it? 

He’s afraid of what it says. Maybe Connor has had enough and wants to cut ties completely. Maybe he’s sent over an essay of all the horrible things that are wrong with him. Maybe he just wants to be left alone. 

Kevin opens the text. 

_I’m sorry_ , it says. _But boys who like boys can never be friends._

Kevin hasn’t cried out of sadness in years, but he really feels like he just might, at any second, explode. 

He instinctively presses the call button. Connor answers straight away. 

“Kevin,” he says, and he sounds tired. “What do you want?”

“I want you to listen to me,” he says. “I want you to. I don’t know. I just want you.” 

“Don’t say things you can’t take back,” says Connor, bitter and mean. “Or are you planning on making even more _mistakes_?” 

“You weren’t a mistake,” says Kevin, and he knows he sounds more than a little desperate. “I lied.”

“Mormon’s don’t lie.”

“Good job I’m only sort of a Mormon, then.” 

“That’s not really funny anymore.”

“I know,” says Kevin, rolling onto his side and curling up into himself. “Thanks for picking up.”

“I just wanted to tell you to stop calling me,” says Connor. “I have nothing to say to you.”

“That’s not true,” says Kevin. “I know you. You have a whole list of insults you want to throw at me right now. Go on, I can take it.”

“No you can’t,” says Connor. “You’re shallow and vain and you care more about your fragile sense of self-worth than your best friend.” 

“There you go,” says Kevin. “Do you feel better?”

“No,” says Connor. “You want to know what I think? I think you’re self-obsessed to the point where you don’t see what’s right in front of you. And I think that you hadn’t got any in so long that you used me for it.” 

“Connor,” Kevin says, pinching the bridge of his nose until it hurts. “I seem to recall that you were the one who left before I woke up, like I was just another one night stand you couldn’t wait to get rid of.” 

“So I freaked out,” says Connor. “So what? We could’ve talked about it like normal people. You just assumed.”

“That’s not fair,” says Kevin. “How would you have felt if I had disappeared in the middle of the night with no note or anything?” 

“This isn’t about you,” Connor says. “Not everything is, you know.” 

“That’s getting a little old,” says Kevin. “Come up with something better if you actually want to hurt my feelings.” 

“Fine,” says Connor. “What do you want me to say? Because I’m getting the impression that you don’t exactly want to kiss and make up.” 

“You’re being deliberately obtuse, aren’t you? Because if you actually knew what you were talking about, you would know that’s exactly what I want to do.”

Connor is silent, for ten, eleven, twelve seconds. 

“You don’t get to say things like that when you don’t really mean it,” says Connor, and hangs up the phone. 

Fuck. If Kevin is an idiot, then Connor is too. Kevin, for the first time since he left the Church, knows exactly what it is that he wants. And Kevin Price doesn’t usually get what he wants, but he’s going to damn well try. 

***

Kevin doesn’t know what he’s doing when he turns up at Connor’s apartment in the middle of the night, but it’s taken him three days to talk himself into doing this, and he’s not going to back down now. 

“Kevin,” says Connor, when he opens the door, and he looks tired and sad and adorable. His hair looks like he’s been running his hands through it and there are big, dark circles under his eyes. “Do you have any idea what time it is?”

“You weren’t asleep,” says Kevin. “Can I come in?”

“No,” says Connor, and puts a hand on his chest to push him away. “Of course you can’t. What is wrong with you?” 

“Listen,” says Kevin. 

“No,” says Connor. “I don’t have to listen to a word you say.”

“You overreacted,” says Kevin, because he’s thought long and hard about this and he’s pretty certain he knows what he’s talking about, for once in his life. “You overreacted because you’re scared.”

“Fuck off, Kevin. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“But I do,” says Kevin, because he knows Connor and he knows them and it’s taken him a while, but he understands exactly what’s happened. “You’re scared because you actually care about me. And you don’t know how to deal with actually caring about somebody you want to sleep with.”

“Since when did you become so insightful?” says Connor, leaning in the doorway and watching him with those intense eyes of his. Kevin refuses to back down from his gaze and stands his ground. “I didn’t overreact. You were a jerk.” 

“I still am a jerk,” says Kevin, and Connor snorts. “I can’t not have you in my life. It’s driving me insane. I miss you, like, a ridiculous amount.”

“You probably should have figured this out before now.”

“Probably,” says Kevin. “But I have now. Doesn’t that count for something?”

“Maybe,” says Connor. “I don’t know. I don’t understand you. I thought we were - whatever, it doesn’t matter now. You don’t want the same things I do, and I just have to deal with that. But I can’t deal with it if you’re still in my life. It’s not fair.” 

“You need to listen to me,” says Kevin. “Just for a few minutes. Please.”

Connor narrows his eyes and his mouth is turned down, but he nods anyway. 

“Okay,” says Connor. “Spit it out.”

“Connor McKinley,” Kevin says. “I wanted some big end of movie declaration for you, but I realized that didn’t matter. But what does matter is that I love you. I really do, and I think I have for a really long time but I just couldn’t pull my head out of my ass to see it. I love everything about you. I love the way you wake up at eleven in the morning and act like you’re confused to see me in my own apartment. I love the way you look at me like I’m the only thing in the world. I love how you can always talk to cab drivers for the both of us because you’re great at small talk. I love arguing with you about the best love interest in a movie until three in the morning. I loved having sex with you and I’m sorry I freaked out about it. I was just so afraid I’d lose you, and then I did exactly that. If you’ll let me, I’ll find a million little ways to make it up to you. I just really needed you to know that I’m in love with you. Like, head over heels would die for you in love with you. And, um. Yeah.”

Kevin winces. That did not go quite as well as it did in his head. Connor is looking at him with his mouth open and he’s never seen him quite so angry. 

“Kevin Price,” Connor says. “You are such a fucking idiot.”

“I know,” says Kevin. 

“I can’t believe you. You’re ridiculous. Why didn’t you say any of this before? God, I’m so mad at you.”

“I know that, too,” Kevin says. 

“I really wish you wouldn’t say things like your little speech there,” says Connor, whose body language relaxes and his mouth quirks upwards into a smile. “Because saying shit like that makes it impossible for me to hate you.”

And then, miraculously, Connor pulls Kevin in by his shirt collar and kisses him. Kevin makes a little oomph sound and almost falls backwards off the step, but Connor pulls him inside, still kissing him. 

“I hate you,” Connor says in between kisses. “I really, really hate you.”

“No you don’t,” says Kevin, and presses Connor up against the wall, shutting the door behind him with his foot. “You never did.”

“No,” says Connor, and puts his hands up Kevin’s shirt. “No, I didn’t. I wanted to get into your pants so badly.”

“You can,” says Kevin. “Five years too late but you can, you absolutely can. I am giving you the green light -” but then Kevin is forced to shut up because Connor sticks his tongue into his mouth. 

“We’re going to need to talk about this,” Connor says. 

“Obviously, but _after_ ,” says Kevin, and then latches his mouth onto Connor’s neck. 

“Oh, oh, okay,” says Connor, and starts laughing. “That tickles, you idiot.”

Kevin hums in reply. He’s just so _happy_ , feels like it’s going to bubble out up of his mouth and all over Connor. They could’ve been doing this for months - maybe years - and Kevin feels like such an idiot because it feels so good. It’s never been like this. He’s never laughed during sex before, it’s always been a little weird and stilted and quiet. Connor does it like he thinks it’s funny, and the thing is, it kind of is. Connor says something incredibly lewd in his ear and Kevin’s knees turn gooey. 

“You’re shameless,” he tells him, as Connor pulls him into his bedroom. “Truly.”

“Shut up,” says Connor. “Please, just - shh. Let me,” but he doesn’t finish that sentence, because he’s taking off Kevin’s clothes and, well. 

Maybe boys who likes boys can be friends, but not today. Not them, and maybe they’ve never been just friends, but it doesn’t matter now. What matters is Connor’s mouth sliding on his and how easy it all feels. What matters is Connor texting Kevin during his breaks to check he’s having a good day, it’s Connor buying half of the groceries because he’s over so often, it’s the way Connor’s hand feels in his and how Connor always, without fail, gets ice cream on his nose. It’s how Connor kisses Kevin, cupping his jaw and talking into his mouth because he never knows when to shut up. It’s a hundred different things a day. What matters is that Kevin is disgustingly in love with him, and Connor might just love him back. 

***

Kevin wakes up to an empty bed. He tries very, very hard not to freak out. He’s mostly unsuccessful. He crawls out of bed and stumbles into the kitchen, trying to process that he may have fucked up. Again. 

But, there’s Connor, sitting on his counter with a mug of coffee that he grins at Kevin over. 

“You’re still here,” says Kevin. 

“I am,” says Connor, then takes a swig of coffee. He hands the mug over to Kevin. “We shouldn’t have this conversation when you’re uncaffeinated.” 

“Probably not,” Kevin agrees, and downs the rest of it. He wipes his mouth and when he looks up he catches Connor smiling at him. 

“You’re very cute,” says Connor. “Did you know that?” 

“I did,” says Kevin. “You’re not so bad yourself, you know.” 

Connor leans down, cups Kevin’s face in his hands and kisses him. Kevin’s knees go a bit gooey. 

“I’m not freaking out this time. Are you?”

Kevin doesn’t even need to think about it. 

“Not if you aren’t,” says Kevin. He shuffles closer and settles in between Connor’s legs. 

“Nope,” says Connor, and pulls him in for another kiss. And another. “The novelty of kissing you is never going to wear off. It should be weird. But it’s totally not weird.” 

“Totally not,” says Kevin, distracted by Connor’s mouth. 

“My eyes are up here, you know,” says Connor, but his lips are quirked into an amused half smile after he says it. “Shut up, kiss me, and take me to the bedroom.”

“You are a very demanding lover,” says Kevin, but he kisses Connor until he can’t breathe anyway. 

Kevin marvels, as he unbuttons Connor’ shirt, at the series of events which has led him to falling in love with the biggest asshole he’d ever met and at how Connor whimpers a little when he kisses the skin behind his ear. This is not how he envisioned his happy ending. Not that he cares, that is. This happy ending is even _better_.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Please follow me on twitter @neverbirds or on tumblr @neverbirds! :)


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